iiiiiiiil^ 
'liiiiii 


rHE  NATURAL  1 


OF:tHE,a| 


Che  H.  H.  i-iiU  iCiltnmt 


Xortli  (iTaniliiia    §f;iti-  QTullrqe 

QH&l        ' 
H4 


QP81 


4898':' 


DATS 


This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEKS 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE 
CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  is  due  on  the 
day  indicated  below: 


t  is   due   on  t 

48987 


lii 


ur 


ISJan'SS 


12Jun'59s 


THE  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM. 


The  Natural  History 
of  the  Farm 


A  Guide  to  the  Practical  Study  of  the  Sources 
of  Our  Living  in  Wild  Nature. 


By  JAMES  G:  NEEDHAM 


0'' 


PROFESSOR    OF   LIMNOLOGY,    GENERAL     BIOLOGY    AND    NATURE    STUDY 
IN   CORNELL    UNIVERSITY. 


ITHACA,  xN.  Y. 

THE    COMSTOCK    PUBLISHING   COMPANY 

19  16 


CYBELE 

Spirit  of  th'  raw  and  gravid  earth 
Whenceforth  all  things  have  breed  and  birth, 
From  palaces  and  cities  great 
From  pomp  and  pageantry  and  state 

Back  I  come  with  empty  hands 

Back  imto  your  naked  lands. 

— L.  11.  Bailey. 


COPYRIGHT,    1914 

BY  THE 

COMSTOCK    PUBLISHING    COMPANY 


PRESS  OF  W.  F.  HI.-MPHREY.  GENEVA,  N. 


PREFACE. 

This  is  a  book  on  the  sources  of  agriculture.  Some  there 
may  be  who,  deeply  immersed  in  the  technicalities  of  modern 
agricultural  theory  and  practice,  have  forgotten  what  the 
sources  are;  but  they  are  very  plain.  Food  and  shelter  and 
clothing  are  obtained  now,  in  the  main,  as  in  the  days  of  the 
patriarchs.  Few  materials  of  livelihood  have  been  either 
added  or  eliminated.  The  same  great  groups  of  animals 
furnish  us  flesh  and  milk  and  wool ;  the  same  plant  groups 
furnish  us  cereals,  fruits  and  roots,  cordage  and  fibres  and 
staves.  The  beasts  browsed  and  bred  and  played,  the 
plants  sprang  up  and  flowered  and  fruited,  then  as  now.  We 
have  destroyed  many  to  make  room  for  a  chosen  few.  We 
have  selected  the  best  of  these,  and  by  tillage  and  care  of  them 
we  have  enlarged  their  product  and  greatly  increased  our 
sustenance,  but  we  have  not  changed  the  nature  or  the 
sources  of  it.  To  see,  as  well  as  we  may,  what  these  things 
were  like  as  they  came  to  us  from  the  hand  of  nature  is  the 
chief  object  of  this  cotirse. 

A  series  of  studies  for  the  entire  year  is  offered  in  the 
following  pages.  Each  deals  with  a  different  phase  of  the 
life  of  the  farm.  In  order  to  make  each  one  pedagogically 
practical,  a  definite  program  of  work  is  outlined.  In  order 
to  insure  that  tlie  student  shall  have  something  to  show  for 
his  time,  a  definite  form  of  record  is  suggested  for  each 
practical  exercise.  In  order  to  encom-age  spontaneity,  a 
ntmiber  of  individual  exercises  are  included  which  the  student 
may  pursue  independently.  The  studies  heie  offered  are 
those  that  have  proved  most  useful,  or  that  are  most  tv]^  ical, 
or  that  best  illustrate  field-work  methods.  ^^^^^  ^^ 
enough  work  in  some  of  them  for  more  than  sJ^^/^^^np : 


6  HISTORY  OF   I-ARM 

many  of  thcin  will  bear  rc'itclilion  with  new  materials,  or  in 
new  situations.  li^aeh  one  includes  a  brief  introductory 
sUitcment  to  be  read,  and  an  outline  of  work  to  be  i)CTf<)nned. 
In  all  of  them,  it  is  the  doing  of  the  work  outlined-  not  the 
mere  readin.i^  of  the  text— that  will  \-ield  satisfactor\'  educa- 
tional results. 

The  work  of  this  course  is  not  new.  Mucli  work  of  this 
.sort  has  been  done,  and  well  done,  as  nature-stud>',  in\arious 
institutions  at  home  and  abroad.  But  here  is  an  attempt  to 
intcj^atc  it  all,  and  to  show  its  relation  to  the  sources  of  our 
livinj,'.  So  it  is  the  natural  history,  not  of  the  whole  range  of 
things  curious  and  interesting  in  the  world,  but  of  those  things 
that  humankind  has  elected  to  deal  with  as  a  means  of  liveli- 
hcx^d  and  of  personal  satisfaction  in  all  ages. 

These  are  the  tilings  we  have  to  live  with:  they  are  the 
things  we  ha\'e  to  li\e  b\-.  They  feed  us  and  shelter  us  and 
clothe  us  and  wann  us.  They  equip  us  with  implements  for 
manifold  tasks.  They  endow  us  with  a  thousand  delicacies 
aiul  wholesome  comforts.  They  unfold  before  us  the  cease- 
less drama  of  the  e\'cr-changing  seasons — the  informing 
drama  of  life,  of  which  we  arc  a  part.  And  when,  in  our  rude 
fanning  o])erations,  we  scar  the  face  of  nature  to  make  fields 
and  houses  and  stock  pens,  they  oiler  us  the  means  whereby, 
though  changed,  to  make  it  green  and  golden  again— a  fit 
enviromnent  wherein  to  dwell  at  peace. 

In  the  belief  that  an  acquaintance  with  these  things  would 
contribute  to  greater  contentment  in  and  enjoN'ment  of  the 
farm  surroundings  and  to  a  better  rural  life,  this  course  was 
yircpared.  The  original  suggestion  of  it  came  from  Director 
L.  H.  Bailey  of  the  New  York  State  College  of  Agriculture. 
It  was  first  given  in  that  college  by  me  in  cooperation  with 
Mrs.  J.  II.  Comstock.  To  both  these  good  naturalists,  and 
to  all  thos.'  who  ha\'e  hel]  ed  me  as  assistants,  I  am  greatly 
indebted  for  valuable  .suggestions. 

J.\.\Ii:S    Ci.    XliEDHAM. 


CONTENTS 


Preface  . 
Contents 


page  5 
.    "     7 


PART  I.     STUDIES  FOR  THE  FALL  TERM: 
October-January 

1.  Mother  Earth page    9  with  Study  i  on  page  15 

2.  The  wild  fruits  of  the  farm ^^     16     ^^  ^^  2        ^^       ^^ 

3.  The  wild  nuts  of  the  farm ^^    24     ^^  ^^  3        „       ^" 

4.  The  farm  stream ^^    32     ^^  ^^  4        ,,       4 

5.  The  fishes  of  the  farm  stream .,46^^  ^^  5        ^^       4° 

6.  Pastureplants -  f «  "  "  7  "  62 

7.  The  wild  roots  of  the  farm ^^  g  ^,  ,^  7  „  ^;f 

8.  The  November  seed-crop   ,.  ,<  «  «  ^a 

9.  The  deciduous  trees  in  winter ^^  71  ,,  „  9  ,,  /o 

10.  The  farm  wood  lot ^^    77  ,,  ,,  ^^  „  79 

11.  The  fuel  woods  of  the  farm ^^    «i  ^^  ,,  Ji  „  °" 

12.  Winter  verdure  of  the  farm ^^    90  ^,  ,.  ^^  ^^  y^ 

13.  The  wild  mammals  of  the  farm  ...  ^^    96  ^^  ^,  i3  ^,  J"" 

14.  The  domesticated  mammals ^^105  ^^  ^^  14  „  ^^ 

15.  The  fowls  of  the  farm ^/I3  ^,  ,,  J5  ,,  J^V 

16.  Farm  landscapes    121  10  ^ 

Individual  exercises  for  the  Fall  Term  (Optionals) 

1.  A  student's  record  of  farm  operations page  126 

2.  Noteworthy  views  of  the  farm ^^  128 

3.  Noteworthy  trees  of  the  farm ,^  125 

4.  Autumnal  coloration  and  leaf  fall ^,  132 

5.  A  calendar  of  seed  dispersal ^^ 33 

PART  IL     STUDIES  FOR  THE  SPRING  TERM: 
February-May. 

17.  The  lay  of  the  land : page  137.  with  study  i7onpage  141 

18.  The  deciduous  shrubs  of  the  farm     ]]  143  ,^  i»  H7 

1 9 .  Winter  activities  of  wild  animals .  .  ^  ^  150  ^  ^ 

20.  Fiber  products  of  the  farm ||  I55  ^^ 

21.  A  coating  of  ice \^  164  ^^ 

22.  Maple  sap  and  sugar   .•••.,  ^^  ,< 

23.  Nature's  soil  conserving  operations  ^^  I75  ^^ 

24.  The  passing  of  the  trees ^^  180  ^^ 

25.  The  fence  row ^,     186     ^^ 

26.  A  spring  brook ^9^ 


19  154 

20  "  162 

21  "  166 

22  "  172 

23  "  179 

24  "  148 

25  "  190 

26  -  193 


OF  THH 

1-ARM 

i.  195  wi til 

study 

27on 

paK^e  202 

'  205     " 

28 

"     207 

'  208     " 

29 

"     212 

•213     " 

.¥) 

"     216 

'  219     " 

M 

"     221 

*  -^23     " 

32 

"     226 

•  NATl-RAL  HISTORY 

97.  Nature's  offerings  for  spring  f)lanting  p 

28.  A  cut-over  wocxl-l.ind  thicket  .... 

29.  Wilt!  spring  fltiwcrs  of  tlie  fanii  .  .  . 

30.  What  goes  on  in  the  ai^ple  lilos.snnis 

31.  The  song  birds  of  the  fann    

32.  The  early  .summer  landscape    .... 

Individual  Exercises  for  the  Spring  Term  (Optionals) 

6.  A  c.ilendar  of  bird  return page  228 

7.  A  calendar  of  spring  growth "     229 

8.  A  calendar  of  spring  flowers "     229 

9.  .\«)teworthy  wild  flower  beds  of  the  farm "     230 

10.  Noteworthy  flowering  shrubs  of  the  farm "     230 

PART  III.     STUDIES  FOR  THE  SUMMER  TERM: 
June  October. 

33.  The  progress  of  the  sea.son page  233,  with  Study  33  on  page  236 

34.  The  clovers "237  "  "     34  "  241 

35.  Wild  aromatic  herbs  of  the  fann.  .  .  "  243  "  "      35  "  250 

36.  The  trees  in  summer "  252  "  "36  "  254 

37.  Weeds  of  the  field "  257  "  "     37  "  263 

38.  Summer  wild  flowers "  264  "  "     38  "  267 

39.  Some  insects  at  work  on  farm  crops  "268  "  "     39  "  272 

40.  Insects  molesting  farm  animals  ..  "274  "  "     40  "  279 

41.  Out  in  the  rain "  281  "  "     41  "  283 

42.  The  vines  of  the  farm "  285  "  "42  "  290 

43.  The  swale "291  "  "     43  "  295 

44.  The  brambles  of  the  farm "296  "  "     44  "  300 

45.  The  population  of  an  old  apple  tree  "  302  "  "     45  "  306 

46.  The  little  brook  gone  dry "307  "  "     46  "  311 

47.  Swimming  holes "312  "  "     47  "  315 

48.  Winding  roads "316  "  "     48  "  319 

Individual  Exercises  for  the  Summer  Term  (Optionals) 

1 1.  A  grass  calendar page  32 1 

12.  A  calendar  of  summer  wild  flowers, "     322 

13.  A  calendar  of  bird  nesting "     323 

14.  Best  crops  of  the  farm "     324 

15.  A  corn  record "     325 

Outdoor  Equipment page  326 

i"^^'^ ::.:.;::;::;: 333 


I.     MOTHER  EARTH 

"Brother,  listen  to  what  we  say.  There  vjas  a  time  when  our  forefathers 
oivned  this  greit  land.  Their  seits  extended  from  the  rising  to  the  setting 
sun.  The  Great  Spirit  had  made  it  for  the  use  of  the  Indians.  He  had 
created  the  buffalo  and  the  deer  and  other  animals  for  food.  He  had  made 
the  hear  and  the  be  iver.  Their  skins  served  us  for  clothing.  He  had 
scattered  them  over  the  country  and  had  taught  us  how  to  take  them.  He 
had  caused  the  earth  to  produce  corn  for  bread.  All  this  he  had  done  for 
his  red  children  because  he  loved  them.'' 

— "P*  om  the  g'-e-it  oration  of  "Red  Jacket,"  the  Seneca  Indian,  on  The  Religion  of 
the  White  Man  and  the  Red. 

If  you  ever  read  the  letters  of  the  pioneers  who  first  settled 
in  your  locality  when  it  was  all  a  wilderness  (and  how  recent 
was  the  time!),  you  will  find  them  filled  with  discussion  of  the 
possibilities  of  getting  a  living  and  estabhshing  a  home  there. 
Were  there  springs  of  good  water  there  ?  Was  there  native 
pasturage  for  the  animals?  Was  there  fruit?  Was  there 
fish?  Was  there  game?  Was  there  timber  of  good  quality 
for  building  ?  Was  the  soil  fertile  ?  Was  the  climate  health- 
ful? Was  the  outlook  good?  Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you 
how,  in  absence  of  real-estate  and  immigration  agencies,  they 
found  out  about  all  these  things  ? 

They  sought  this  information  at  its  source.  They  followed 
up  the  streams.  They  foraged:  they  fished:  they  hunted. 
They  measured  the  boles  of  the  trees  with  eyes  experienced  in 
woodcraft.  They  judged  of  what  nature  would  do  with  their 
sowings  by  what  they  saw  her  doing  with  her  own  native 
crops.  And  having  found  a  sheltered  place  with  a  pleasant 
outlook  and  with  springs  and  grass  and  forage  near  at  hand, 
they  built  a  dwelling  and  planted  a  garden.  Thus,  a  new  era 
of  agriculture  was  ushered  in. 

Your  ancestors  were  white  men  who  came  from  another 
continent  and  brought  with  them  tools  and  products  and 
traditions  of  another  civilization.  Their  tools,  though 
simple,  were  efficient.     Their  axes  and  spades  and  needles 

9 

Library 
H.  C,  State  CoUeg© 


,0  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  Till-:    FARM 

and  shears  were  of  steel.  Their  chief  dependence  for  food 
was  placed  in  cereals  and  vegetables  whose  seeds  they  brought 
\nth  them  from  across  the  seas.  Their  social  habits  were 
those  of  a  peoj^le  that  had  long  known  the  arts  of  tillage  and 
husbandry:  their  ci\-iIizalion  was  based  on  settled  homes. 
But  they  brought  with  them  into  the  wilderness  only  a  few 
wea|X)ns,  a  few  tools,  a  few  seeds  and  a  few  animals,  and  for 
the  balance  and  continuance  of  their  living  they  relied  upon 
the  bounty  of  the  woods,  the  waters  and  the  soil. 

A  little  earlier  there  lived  in  your  locality  a  race  of  red  men 
whose  cruder  tools  and  weapons  were  made  of  flint,  of  bone 
and  of  copper;  who  planted  native  seeds  (among  them  the 
maize,  the  squash,  and  the  potato),  and  whose  traditions  were 
mainly  of  war  and  of  the  chase.  These  w^re  indeed  children 
( -f  natiu*c,  dependent  upon  their  own  hands  for  obtaining  from 
mother  earth  all  their  sustenance.  There  was  little  division 
of  labor  among  them.  Each  must  know  (at  least,  each  family 
must  know)  how  to  gather  and  how  to  prepare  as  well  as  how 
to  use. 

Today  you  live  largely  on  the  products  of  the  labors  of 
others.  You  get  your  food,  not  with  sickle  and  flail  and 
spear,  but  with  a  can-opener,  and  you  eat  it  without  even  an 
inkling  of  where  it  grew.  So  many  hands  ha\-e  intervened 
between  the  getting  and  the  using  of  all  things  needful,  that 
some  factory  is  thought  of  as  the  source  of  them  instead  of 
mother  earth.  Suppose  that  iii  order  to  realize  how  you  have 
lost  connection,  you  step  out  into  the  wildwood  empty- 
handed,  and  look  about  }'OU.  Choose  and  say  what  }'ou  will 
have  of  all  you  see  bcf(ire  you  for  your  next  meal?  Where 
will  you  find  your  next  suit  of  clothes  and  what  will  it  be  like? 
Ah,  could  you  even  im^^rovisc  a  wrap])ing,  and  a  string  with 
which  to  tie  it,  fn^m  what  wild  nature  offers  you? 

These  are  degenerate  days.  One  h;ul  to  know  things  in 
order  to  live  in  the  days  of  the  pioneer  and  the  Inrlian.     But 


MOTHER  EARTH  ii 

now  one  may  live  without  knowing  anything  useful,  if  he  only 
possess  a  few  coins  of  the  realm  and  have  access  to  a  depart- 
ment store. 

"Back  to  nature"  has  therefore  become  the  popular  cry, 
and  vacations  are  devoted  to  camping  out,  and  to  "foraging 
off  to  the  country"  as  a  means  of  restoration.  But  for- 
tunately it  is  not  necessary  to  go  to  the  mountains  or  to  the 
frontier  in  order  to  get  back  to  nature ;  for  nature  is  ever  with 
us  at  home.  She  raises  otir  crops  with  her  sunshine  and  soil 
and  air  and  rain,  and  turns  not  aside  the  while  from  raising 
her  own.  While  we  are  engrossed  with  "developing"  our 
clearings  and  are  planting  farms  and  cities  and  shops,  she 
goes  on  serenely  raising  her  ancient  products  in  the  bits  of 
land  left  over :  in  swamp  and  bog,  in  gulch  and  dune,  on  the 
rocky  hillside,  by  the  stream,  and  in  the  fence  row.  There 
she  plants  and  tends  her  cereals  and  fruits  and  roots,  and 
there  she  feeds  her  flocks.  Wherever  we  leave  her  an  opening, 
she  slips  in  a  few  seeds  of  her  own  choosing,  and  when  we 
abandon  a  field,  she  quickly  populates  it  again  with  wild 
things.  They  begin  again  the  same  old  lusty  struggle  for 
place  and  food,  and  of  our  feeble  and  transient  interference, 
soon  there  is  hardly  a  sign. 

As  for  the  wild  things,  therefore, — the  things  that  so  largely 
made  up  the  environment  of  the  pioneer  and  the  red  man — 
we  need  but  step  out  to  the  borders  of  otu:  clearing  to  find  most 
of  them.  If  any  one  would  share  in  the  experience  of  prime- 
val times,  he  must  work  at  these  things  with  his  own  hands. 
To  gain  an  acquaintance  he  must  apply  first  his  senses  and 
then  his  wits.  He  must  test  them  to  find  out  what  they  are 
good  for,  and  try  them  to  find  out  what  they  are  like :  he 
must  sense  the  qualities  that  have  made  them  factors  in  the 
struggle  for  a  place  in  the  world  of  life.  Thus,  one  may  get 
back  to  n_iLurc.  Thus,  one  may  re-acquire  some  of  that 
ancient  fund  of  real  knowledge  that  was  once  necessary  to 


12  N.Vl  TRAL  HISTORY  OF   rm>  \'-\^<^^ 

jur  race,  and  that  is  still  fumhuncntal  to  a 
^'<xxl  education,  and  that  contributes  largely 
lo  one's  enjoNinent  of  liis  ow-n  environment. 

The  Ixst  place  to  begin  is  near  home.  Any 
large  fann  will  furnish  opportunities.  It  is 
'he  object  of  the  lessons  that  follow  to 
help  you  fmd  the  wild  things  of  the  farm 
that  arc  most  nearly  related  to  your  perma- 
nent interests,  and  to  get  on  speaking  terms 
with  them.  Vou  will  be  helped  by  these 
studies  in  proportion  as  your  own  eyes  see 
and  >-our  own  hands  handle  these  wild 
things.  The  records  you  make  will  be  of 
value  to  you  only  as  you  wTitc  into  them 
your  own  experience:     \ATite  nothing  else. 

Suggestions  to  students :  The  regular  held 
work  contemplated  in  this  course  makes 
certain  demands  with  which  indoor  labora- 
tor>'  students  may  be  unfamiliar.  A  few 
suggestions  may  therefore  be  helpful: 

1.  As  to  weather:  All  weather  is  good 
weather  to  a  naturalist.  It  is  all  on  nature's 
program.  Each  kind  has  its  use  in  her 
eternal  processes,  and  each  kind  brings  its 
own  peculiar  opportunities  for  learning 
her  ways.  Nothing  is  more  futile  than 
complaint  of  the  weather,  for  it  is  c\'cr  with 
us.  It  were  far  better,  therefore,  to  enter 
into  the  spirit  of  it.  to  make  the  most  of  it 
and  to  enjoy  it. 

2.  As  to  clothes:  Wear  such  as  are 
strong,  ])lain  and  comortable.  There  are 
thorns  in  nature's  garden  that  will  tear  thin 
stuffs  and  reach  out  after  an>-thing  detach- 
able; and  there  are  burs,  that  will  cling 
persistently  to  loose-woven  fabrics.  Kid 
gloves  in  cold  weather  and  high  heels  at  all 


e 


= 


Fig.  1.     Metric   and 
English  linear  mL-asure. 


MOTHER  EARTH 


13 


times  are  an  utter  abomination.  Clothing  suited  to  the 
weather  will  have  very  much  to  do  with  your  enjoyment  of  it 
and  with  the  eriiciency  of  your  work. 

3.  As  to  tools:  A  pocket  lens  and  a  pocket  knife  you 
should  own,  and  have  always  with  you.  A  rule  for  linear 
measurements  is  printed  herewith  (fig.  i).  Farm  tools,  fur- 
nished for  common  use,  will  supply  all  other  needs. 

4.  As  to  the  use  of  the 
blanks  provided :  Blanks, 
such  as  a])pear  in  the  studies 
outlined  on  subsequent  pages, 
are  provided  for  use  in  this 
course.  Take  rough  copies  of 
them  with  you  for  use  in  the 
field,  where  writing  and  sketch- 
ing in  a  notebook  held  in  one's 
hand  is  difficult;  then  make 
permanent  copies  at  home. 
When  out  in  the  rain,  write 
with  soft  pencil  and  not  with 
inlv. 

5.  As  to  poison  ivy  (fig.  2) : 
Unless  you  are  immune,  look 
out  for  it :  a  vine  climbing  by 
aerial  roots  on  trees  and  fences, 
or  creeping  over  the  ground. 
Its  compound  leaves  resemble  fig.  2.  Poison  ivy. 
those    of  the   woodbine,    but 

there  are  five  leaflets  in  the  woodbine,  and  but  three  in 
poison  ivy.  Lead  acetate  (sugar  of  lead)  is  a  specific  antidote 
for  the  poison;  a  saturated  solution  in  50%  alcohol  should 
be  kept  available  in  the  laboratory.  It  is  rubbed  on  the 
affected  parts — not  taken  internally,  for  it  also  is  a  poison. 
If  used  as  soon  as  infection  is  discoverable,  little  injury 
results  to  the  skin  of  even  those  most  sensitive  to  ivy  poison. 
After  lesions  of  the  skin  have  occurred,  through  neglect  to 
use  it  promptly,  it  is  an  unsafe  and  ineffective  remedy ;  a 
physician  shoiild  then  be  consulted. 

6.  As  to  pockets:  Some  people  don't  have  any.  But 
containers  of  some  sort  for  the  lesser  things,  such  as  twigs  and 


14  NATURAL    HISTORY  OF  Till-    FARM 

seeds,  studied  in  the  lielil.  will  be  very  desirable.  You  will 
want  to  take  another  l<K)k  at  them  after  you  get  baek;  so 
preiKirc  to  take  them  liome,  where  \-()U  can  sit  at  a  table  and 
work  with  them.  A  bag  or  a  basket  will  hold,  besides  tools,  a 
lot  of  stout  envelopes,  for  keeping  things  a])art.  with  labels 
and  necessary  data  \\Titten  on  the  outside. 

7.  As  to  reference  books:  "Study  nature,  not  books", 
said  the  great  naturalist  and  teacher,  Louis  Agassiz.  By  all 
means,  get  the  answers  to  the  questions  involved  in  your 
reconis  of  these  studies  direct  from  nature  and  not  from  books. 
Hut  while  you  are  in  the  field,  you  will  meet  with  many  things 
about  which  vou  will  wish  to  know.  Ask  your  instructors 
freely.  Get  acquainted,  also,  with  some  of  the  standard 
reference  lxx)ks,  which  will  help  you  when  instructors  fail. 
Only  a  few  of  the  more  generally  useful  can  be  mentioned 
here. 

There  are  three  classical  manuals  for  use  in  the  eastern 
United  States  and  Canada,  that  have  hcl]:)ed  the  naturalists 
of  several  generations.  These  are  Gray's  Manual  of  Botany, 
Jordan's  Manual  of  the  Vertebrates  and  Comstock's  Manual 
for  the  Studv  of  Insects.  There  are  two  great  cyclopedias, 
both  echted  bv  Professor  L.  H.  Bailey— The  American 
Cvclopechas  of  Horticulture  and  of  Agriculture.  There  arc 
manv  lxx)ks  of  nature-study,  but  most  useful  of  them  all  is 
Mrs.'  Comstock's  Handbook  of  Nature-Study.  The  best 
single  bird  book  is  Chairman's  Handbook  of  North  American 
Birds.  A  new  book  that  will  help  toward  acquaintance 
with  aquatic  plants  and  animals  is  Nccdham  and  Lloyd's 
Life  of  Inland  Waters.  All  these  should  be  accessible  on 
reference  shelves. 

"Note — At  Cornell  University  the  field  tool  that  is  fur- 
nished to  classes  for  individual  use  is  a  sharj)  brick-layer's 
hammer  weighing  about  a  pound.  It  is  not  heavy  enough 
to  be  burdensome,  and  it  is  ada])table  to  a  great  variety  of 
u.ses,  such  as  digging  roots,  cracking  nuts,  stripping  bark, 
s]jlitting  and  s]jlintering  kindling,  ])lanting  seedlings,  etc.  A 
light  hatchet  will  ser\'e  man\-,  but  not  all  of  these  uses. 


MOTHER  EARTH  15 

Study  1.     A  General  Survey  of  the  Farm 

The  program  of  this  study  should  consist  of  a  trip  over  the 
farm  with  a  good  map  in  hand,  showing  the  streams,  the 
roads,  the  buildings  and  the  outlines  of  all  the  fields  and 
woods. 

The  record.  The  student  should  record  directly  on  this 
map,  the  sort  and  condition  of  crops  found  in  all  the  fields  and 
the  character  of  all  the  larger  areas  not  used  as  fields.  He 
should  put  down  the  names  of  all  prominent  topographic 
features,  hills,  streams,  glens,  etc.,  that  bear  names.  The 
amount  of  additional  data  to  be  required — dwellings  and  their 
inhabitants,  bams  and  their  uses,  etc. — ^will  be  determined 
by  the  area  to  be  covered  and  the  time  available.  If  crops 
are  few,  colors  may  be  used  to  make  their  distribution  more 
graphic.  If  inhabitants  are  to  be  recorded,  the  dwellings 
may  be  numbered  upon  the  map  and  the  names  of  their 
occupants  written  down  in  a  correspondingly  numbered  list. 
The  object  is  a  preliminary  survey  of  the  whole  area  that  is  to 
be  subsequently  examined  in  detail. 


II.    THK  WIl.I)   i-RlITS  OF    THI-:   IWRM 

"Thr  mandrakes  jfitr  <j  smell,  and  at  our  f^ates  are  all  manner  of  pleasant 
fruits,  nrtc  and  old.  which  I  h<irr  I  tid  up  for  thee,  O  my  beloved." 

—  The  Song  of  J"olomon.  7:13. 

The  bounty  of  nature  is  never  more  fully  ai)i)rcciatc(l  than 
when  \vc  sec  a  tree  bearing  a  load  of  luscious  fruit.  A  tree 
that  lias  been  green,  like  its  fellows,  suddenly  bursts  into  a 
glow  of  color,  and  begins  to  exhale  a  new  and  pleasant  fra- 
grance as  its  product  rijK^is.  The  bending  boughs  disclose 
the  richness  and  abundance  of  its  gift  to  us. 

Among  nature's  delicacies  there  are  none  so  generally 
agreeable  and  refreshing  as  her  fruits.  They  possess  an 
infinite  variety  of  fla\'ors.  Before  the  da}'s  of  sugar-making, 
they  were  the  chief  store  of  sweets.  They  ever>'where  fulfill 
an  important  dictar>'  function,  both  for  man  and  for  many  of 
his  animal  associates. 

All  fruits  were  once  wild  fruits.  Most  of  them  exist  today 
quite  as  they  came  to  us  from  the  hand  of  nature.  A  few  have 
been  considerably  improved  by  selection  and  care.  But  none 
of  them  has  been  altered  in  its  habits.  They  grow  and  bloom 
and  bear  and  die  as  they  did  in  the  wildwood. 

They  have  their  seasons,  the  same  seasons  that  the  market 
obserAxs.  First  come  the  strawberries,  breaking  the  fast  of 
winter's  long  barrenness.  What  wonder  that  our  Iroquois 
Indians  celebrated  the  ripening  of  the  fragrant  wild  straw- 
berries by  a  great  annual  festi\-al !  Then  come  the  currants 
and  the  raspberries  and  the  cherries  and  the  builalo-berries 
and  the  mulberries  and  the  plums  and  many  others  in  a  long 
succession,  the  season  ending  with  the  grapes,  the  a]^])les.  the 
cranberries  and  the  persin^mons. 

The  wild  fruits  ha\'e  their  requirements  also  as  to  climate, 
soil,  moisture,  etc..  and  these  we  must  obser^x  if  wc  culti\'ate 

16 


WILD  FRUITS  OF  FARM  17 

them.     Cranberries  and  some  blueberries  demand  bog  con- 
ditions which  strawberries  and  apples  will  not  endure. 

The  wild  fruits  in  a  state  of  nature,  have  their  enemies  also, 
which  are  ever  with  them  when  cultivated.  The  fruit-fly  of 
the  cherry,  the  codling  moth  of  the  apple,  the  plum-curculio 
and  all  the  other  insect  pests  of  the  fruit  garden,  have  merely 
moved  into  the  garden  from  the  wildwood.  And  they 
flourish  equally  in  the  wildwood  still.  When,  for  example, 
an  orchardist  has  rid  his  trees  of  codling  moths,  a  fresh  stock 
soon  arrives  from  the  unnoticed  wild  apples  of  the  adjacent 
woods,  and  infests  his  trees  again. 

So,  we  must  go  back  to  nature  to  find  the  sources  of  our 
benefits  and  of  their  attendant  ills. 

The  wild  fruits  of  the  farm  all  grow  in  out-of-the  way  places 
that  escape  the  plow.  They  grow  in  the  fence-row,  by  the 
brookside,  on  the  stony  slope.  If  in  the  forest,  they  grow 
only  in  the  openings  or  in  the  edges;  for  fruit  trees  do  not 
grow  so  tall  as  the  trees  of  the  forest  cover,  and  cannot  endure 
much  shading.  The  bush  fruits  especially  are  wont  to  spring 
up  in  the  fence-row,  where  birds  have  perched  and  have 
dropped  seeds  from  ripe  fruit  they  have  eaten.  The}^  are  a 
lusty  lot  of  berry-bearing  shrubs  and  vines  that  tend  to  form 
thickets,  and  when  cut  down  by  the  tidy  farmer,  they  spring 
up  again  with  cheerful  promptness  from  uninjured  roots.  In 
a  few  years  they  are  in  bearing  again.  The  neglected  fence- 
row  is,  therefore,  one  of  the  best  places  to  search  for  the  lesser 
wild  fruits. 

Of  nature's  fruits  there  is  endless  variety.  They  grow  on 
tree,  shrub,  herb  and  vine.  They  are  large  and  small,  sweet 
and  sour,  pleasant  and  bitter,  wholesome  and  poisonous. 
They  mellow  in  the  sun  like  apples,  or  sweeten  with  the  frosts 
like  persimmons.  They  hang  exposed  like  plums,  or  are 
hidden  in  husks  like  ground-cherries.  The  edible  ones  that 
remain  growing  wild  in  the  autumn  are  a  rather  poor  lot  of 


l8  XATIRAL  HISTORY  OF  T!IH    FARM 

small  and  seedy  kinds,  that  ha\  e  been  hardy  enough  to  hold 
their  owti,  in  spite  of  mowing  and  grazing  and  clearing. 
They  compare  ]:)oorly\\4th  the  selected  and  cultivated  pro  1- 
ucts  of  the  fruit  farm.  Yet  many  of  them  once  served  our 
ancestors  for  food.  Collectively  they  were  the  sole  fruit 
supply  of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  our  country.  The 
Indians  ate  them  raw,  stewed  them,  made  jam,  and  even 
jellies.  They  dried  the  wild  strawberries,  blueberries,  rasp- 
berries and  blackberries,  and  kept  them  for  winter  use.  They 
expressed  the  juice  of  the  elderberry  for  a  beverage :  indeed, 
the  black-berried  elder  they  used  in  many  ways;   it  was  one 

of  their  favorite  fruits.  And  even 
as  the  crows  eat  sumach  berries 
in  the  winter  when  better  fruits 
are  scarce,  so  the  Indians  boiled 
them  to  make  a  ^\'inter  beverage. 
The  cultivated  fruits  are  but  a 
few  of  those  that  nature  has  offered 
us.  We  have  chosen  these  few  on 
account  of  their  size,  their  quality,  and  their  ])roductive- 
ness.  We  demand  them  in  quantity,  hence  they  must  either 
be  large  or  else  be  easily  gathered.  Some,  like  the  June- 
berry,  are  sweet  and  palatable,  but  too  small  and  scattered 
and  hard  to  pick.  The  wild  gooseberry  is  a  rich  and  luscious 
fruit,  but  needs  shearing  before  it  can  be  handled.  The 
quantitative  demands  of  our  appetite,  the  qualitative  de- 
mands of  our  palate  and  the  mechanical  limitations  of  our 
fingers  have  restricted  us  to  a  few,  and  having  learned  how  to 
successfully  manage  these  few,  we  have  neglected  all  the 
others  fc:)r  them. 

Our  management  has  consisted,  in  the  main,  of  ])ropagating 
from  the  best  varieties  tliat  nature  offered,  and  giving  culture. 
Any  of  the  wild  fruits  would  probably  yield  improved  varie- 
ties under  like  treatment.     All  the  wild  fruits  show  natural 


WILD  FRUITS  OF  FARM 


19 


Fig.  4.     Diagrams  of 
and 
stone  fruit,  (b). 


varieties,   the  best  of  which  offer  proper 
materials  for  selection. 

Wild  fruits,  like  the  cultivated,  fall  chiefly 
in  three  categories:  core  fruits  (pomes), 
stone  fruits  (drupes),  and  berries.  The 
structural  differences  between  pome  and 
drupe  are  indicated  in  the  accompanying 
diagram.  The  apple  is  the  typical  core 
fruit  (^omw5  =  apple;  whence,  pomology). 
The  seeds  are  contained  in  five  hardened 
capsules  (ripened carpels),  together  forming 
the  core,  surrounded  by  the  pulp  or  flesh  of 
the  apple,  which  is  mostly  developed  from 
the  base  of  the  calyx.  The  calyx  lobes 
persist  at  the  apex  of  the  apple,  closed  p^^^  f^^i^-  («)• 
together  above  the  withered  stamens  and 
style  tips.  The  plum  is  a  typical  stone  fruit:  the  single 
seed  is  enclosed  in  a  stony  covering  that  occupies  the 
center  of  the  fruit  and  is  surrounded  by  the  pulp.  The 
term  berry  is  used  to  cover  a  number  of  structural  types 
which  agree  in  little  else  than  that  they  are  small  fruits  with 
a  number  of  scattered  seeds  embedded  in  the  pulp. 

If,  with  the  coming  of  improved  varieties  of  cultivated 
fruits,  the  wild  ones  have  ceased  to  be  of  mach  importance  in 
our  diet,  they  still  are  of  importance  to  us  as  food  for  our 
servants,  the  birds.  The  birds  like  them.  Nothing  will  do 
more  to  attract  and  retain  a  good  population  of  useful  birds, 

than  a  plentiful  supply  of  wild 
fruits  through  the  summer 
season.  Who  that  has  seen 
orioles  pecking  wild  straw- 
berries or  robins  gormandizing 
on  buffalo-berries  or  waxwings 

Pig.  5.  Wild  chokecherry  (PrawM5  5^.?)       cfn'-r>-rvincr   a   mnnnffli-n  fl^Vl     ran 
and  nannyberry  (Viburnum  lentago).  StHppmg  0,  mOUUXam  asn,  Cdn 


20 


EDIHLI-: 

WILD  FRUITS 

Name 

Kind  of  Plant' 

Type  of  Fruit' 

No. 
Seeds 

Cluster  of  PruiU 

Si 

1.  Crab  Apple 

2.   Ihiwthorn 

3.  Mountain  Ash 

4.  Wild  Cherry 

5.  Chokft  hirry 

• 

f),   Xannybt-rry 

7.  Spicelnish 

8.  Hackbern.' 

i 

0.    \Vii,i  Crape 

10.   ]{Mcri)crry 

11.    Harbcrry 

12.  ^'cwbcrry 

l.'i. 

14. 

'Tree,  shrub,  vine,  etc.  -Pome,  drupe,  berry,  etc. 

^Dimensions  in  millimeters. 


•Diagram. 


21 


OF  THE  FARM 


Proportion  of 
Pulp 

Used  for  What' 

Taste 

Animals 
eating  it^ 

Remarks 

1 

2 

3 

4 

6 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

iLeave  blank  unless  you  have  personal  knowledge. 
^Specify  whether  foraging  on  it  or  living  within  it. 


22 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE    FARM 


doubt  it  ?  Their  tastes  have  a  wider  range  than  ours.  Wax- 
wings  Hke  cedar  berries,  and  crows  eat  freely  the  fruit  of 
poison  i\'y.  The  close-growing  habit  of  wild  bush  fniits 
gives  congenial  shelter  and  nesting  sites,  also,  to  many  of 
the  smaller  birds. 

From  all  the  foregoing  it  should  appear  that  a  little  study 
of  the  natural  history  of  the  wild  fruits  in  any  locality  will 
reveal  much  concerning  the  origin  and  the  environing  condi- 
tions of  one  of  our  valuable  resources. 

Study  2.  Edible  WUd  Fruits 
Program — The  first  part  of  this 
study  is  a  comparative  examination 
of  the  wild  fruits  of  the  farm.  The 
fruits  are  to  be  sought  in  nature,  ex- 
amined carefully  one  at  a  time,  and 
their  characters  are  to  be  WTitten  in 
the  columns  of  a  table  prepared  with 
headings  as  indicated  in  pp.  20  and 
''  21.     The  fruits  named  in    the   first 

cI;S:.t-,Iu':Z\t:Vl^e  column  are  those  commonly   found 
SloSrw^ife^hi.;?  wl^"y':  about    Ithaca,    N.   Y.,  in    autumn. 
Earlier  in  the  season,  or  in  another 
region,  the  list  would  be  very  different. 

The  second  part  of  this  study  is  a  comparison  of  individuals 
of  one  kind  of  wild  fruit,  such  as  hawthorns,  wild  grape,  or  any 
other  that  is  abundant,  with  a  view  to  discovering  natural 
varieties.  Half  a  dozen  or  more  selected  trees,  bearing 
number-labels,  i,  2,  3,  etc.,  should  have  their  fruits  carefully 
compared  as  to  (i)  quality  of  flesh  (as  tested  by  palatability 
at  this  date);  (2)  proportion  of  edible  pulp  (as  compared 
with  seeds,  skin  and  other  waste) ;  (3)  carliness;  (4)  size  and 
form;  (5)  productiveness;  (6)  immunity  from  fungus  and 
insects,  as  evidenced  by  the  cleanness  of  the  fruit  inside  and 


WILD  FRUITS  OF  FARM 


23 


outside.  (Immunity  from  birds  and  mammals  is  not  desired, 
since  these  are  attracted  by  the  quahties  we  Hke).  These 
qualities  may  be  set  down  as  column  headings  to  a  table,  the 
first  column  being  reserved  for  tree  numbers,  and  then  it  will 
suffice  if  the  order  of  excellence  be  written  in  each  column  in 
numerals.  For  example,  in  the  column  for  palatability,  if 
tree  No.  3  be  the  best  flavored,  write  i  in  line  3  in  that 
column;  if  tree  No.  4  be  the  worst  flavored  (of  6  trees) ,  write  6 
in  line  4  of  that  column.  Arrange  the  others  likewise  accord- 
ing to  your  judgment  of  their  flavor. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of  the  two  tables  com- 
pleted, so  far  as  data  are  available. 


III.     Till::  MTS  01-    Till:    1  ARM 

"The  iiuld  ^uidu'ife's  weel-hoordet  nils 
Arc  round  an'  round  divided." 

—Robert  Bums  (Uallow-een). 

Nature  ]>uU  up  some  of  her  ]oroducts  in  neat  packages  for 
keepini:.  Anionj^  the  choicest  of  them,  preserA'ed  in  the 
neate-^t  and  most  sanitar}^  of  containers,  are  the  nuts.  Rich  in 
proteins  and  fats,  finely  flavored,  and  with  a  soft  appetizing 
fra^ance.  these  strongly  appeal  to  the  palate  of  man  and 
man\-  of  his  animal  associates.  Squirrels  and  other  rodents 
and  a  few  birds  gather  and  store  them  for  winter  use.  In 
pioneer  days  hogs  were  fattened  on  them.  It  was  a  simple 
process:  the  hogs  roamed  the  woods  and  fed  on  the  nuts 
where  they  fell.  And  it  is  credibly  claimed  that  bacon  of 
surpassing  flavor  was  obtained  from  nut-fed  hogs.  In  earlier 
days  the  Indian,  who  had  no  butter,  found  an  excellent  sub- 
stitute for  it  in  the  oil  of  the  hickories.  He  crushed  the  nuts 
with  a  stone  and  then  boiled  them  in  a  kettle  of  water.  The 
shells  sank  to  the  l:K>ttnm;  the  oil  floated,  and  was  skimmed 
from  the  surface. 

Most  nuts  mature  m  autumn.  A  heav>-,  early  frost,  and 
then  a  high  \\and,  and  then — it  is  time  to  go  nutting;  for  so 
choice  a  stock  of  food,  clattering  down  out  of  the  tree-tops 
onto  the  lap  of  earth,  will  not  lie  long  unclaimed.  It  is  real 
trees  that  most  nuts  grow  on  not  underlings,  like  fruit  trees, 
but  the  great  trees  of  the  forest  cover;  trees  that  are  of  value, 
also,  for  the  fine  quality  of  their  woods.  They  are  long-lived 
and  slow-maturing.  So,  in  our  fanning,  we  ha\'e  neglected 
them  for  quicker-growing  cTops. 

Practically  all  the  nuts  found  growing  about  us  are  wild 
nuts,  that  persist  in  spite  of  us  rather  than  with  our  care. 
Here  and  there  a  valued  chc^nut  or  walnut  tree  is  allowed  to 


^ 


NUTS  OF  THE  FARM 


25 


Pig.  7.     The  pig-nut  hickory  (Hickoria  glabra) ;  the  whole  nut,  a  cross  section  of 
same,  and  the  nut  in  its  hulls  (after  Mayoj. 

occup}^  space  in  the  comer  of  the  barnyard  or  in  the  fencerow, 
and  there,  reHeved  of  competition,  shows  what  it  can  do  in  the 
way  of  producing  large  and  regular  crops.  But  the  nuts  are 
wild.  There  has  been  but  little  selection  for  improved  varie- 
ties and  little  scientific  culture  of  nut-bearing  trees.  When 
we  consider  the  abundance  and  value  of  their  product,  the 
permanence  of  their  occupation  of  the  ground,  the  slight  cost 
in  labor  of  their  maintenance,  and  the  conservation  of  the  soil 
which  they  promote,  this  neglect  of  nut  crops  among  us  seems 
unfortunate. 

Two  families  of  plants  furnish  most  of  our 
valuable  nuts:  the  hickory  family  and  the 
oak  family.  The  former  includes  the  more 
valuable  kinds  of  nuts;  besides  true  hickories, 
these  are  pecans,  butter-nuts  and  walnuts. 
In  all  these  there  is  a  bony  shell,  enclosing 
the  four-lobed  and  wrinkled  edible  seed. 
The  oak  family  includes  besides  the  acorns 
(few  of  which  are  valuable  as  human  food) 
the  chestnuts,  the  filberts,  the  hazels  and  the 
beech  nuts.  In  these  there  is  a  horny  shell 
tions^of^twc^typefof  euclosiug  the  smooth  but  compact  seed. 
wSSnonipfu-  Certain  other  members  of  the  oak  family,  as 
nufw^thfoir^vate  ^^^  hombcams,  produce  nuts  that  are  too 
**"^-  small  to  be  worthy  of  our  consideration  as 


26 


NATL  KAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


<>>- 


■*? 


^i^^ 


u-/ 


■.->- 


>l^ 


t^'v 


Fig.  9.     The  hazel  nut  (Corylus  atnericanits) ; 
and  a  kernel  in  the  half -shell  (after  Mayo). 


nuts  in   thf   hull, 


food.  A  tow  stray  members  of  other  families  produce 
edible  nuts.  Those  of  the  linden  are  very  well  flavored, 
although  minute.  Those  of  the  wild  lotus  of  the  swamps  are 
very  palatable  and  were  regularly  gathered  by  the  Indians 
for  food.  They  resemble  small  acorns  in  size  and  shape. 
Then  there  are  nuts  of  large  size  and  promising  appearance 
that  are  wholly  inedible.  Such  are  the  horse-chestnut  and 
the  buckeye,  which  contain  a  bitter  and  narcotic  principle. 
Certain  nuts  of  large  size  and  fine  quality,  like  the  king 
hickor>',  ha^'e  not  found  much  popular  favor,  because  their 
shells  are  thick  and  close-fitting.  They  are  hard  to  crack  and 
the  kernels  are  freed  with  much  difficulty.  Such  selection  as 
has  been  practiced  with  Persian  walnuts  and  pecans  is  in  the 
direction  of  thin,  loose-fitting  shells. 

Nuts  are  unusually  well  protected  dur- 
ing development  by  hard  shells  and  thick 
hulls  of  acrid  flavor;  yet  they  have  not 
escaped  enemies.  Wormy  nuts  are  fre- 
quent. The  most  important  of  the 
"wonns"  living  inside  the  hulls  and  feed- 
ing on  the  kernels  are  the  larvos  of  the 
nut-weevils.     These     are    snout-beetles 

Fir.  10.     Leaf  outline         ,  ,.  ,        .       ,  ^  j 

and  nutlets  of  the  unden.    that  live  exclusivcly  upoH  nuts  and  are 


NUTS  OF  THE  FARM 


27 


very  finely  adapted  for  such  a  life.     The  snout  or  rostrum 
of  the  beetle  is  excessively  elongated,  especially  in  the  female 


Fig.  11.  The  chestnnt-weevil  (Balaninus  proboscideus) : 
fl,  adult;  6,  same, from  side-female;  c,  head  of  male,  with 
its  shorter  beak;  d,  eggs;  e,  larva; /and  g,  pupa  from  front 
and  from  the  side  (from  Bureau  of  Entomology  of  the 
U.  S.  Department  of  Agriculture). 


beetle.  The  jaws  are  at  its  tip.  It  is  used  for  boring 
deep  holes  through  the  thick  hulls,  down  to  the  kernel.  The 
egg  is  then  inserted  into  the  hole,  and  the  larva  hatching 


28 


I    Height 
Name  '  Kind  of  Plant«    j^  feet^ 


Shellhark  Hickory 

Pignut 

Bittemut 

Butternut 

Walnut 

Chestnut 

Beechnut 

Hazelnut 

White-  ( >:ik 

Chestnut  Oak 

Red  Oak 

Linden 

Buckeye 


PLANTS  PRODUCING 
LEAVES 


Form' 


Size* 


Margin' 


Tree,  shrub,  f)r  herb. 


Muill,  ai)])r()xiniatc. 


Diagram. 


Width  by  length  in  inches;  of  a  single  leaflet,  if  compound. 


29 


WILD  NUTS  AND  ACORNS. 


NUTS:     Character  of 


Hulls 


Shells 


Kernel 


Animals 
eating  it^ 


Quality* 


^  Specify  whether  foraging  on  it  or  Hving  within 
'  Palatability,  oiliness,  starchiness,  acridity,  etc. 


3©  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

from  the  egg  finds  there  a  ready-made  passage  do^^^l  to 
its  food.  The  larvae  have  done  their  destructive  work  when 
the  nuts  fall .  They  are  full-gro\\'n  and  are  ready  to  leave  the 
nuts  and  enter  the  ground,  there  to  complete  their  trans- 
formations. An  easy  way  to  get  the  lan^ae,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  learn  the  extent  of  their  infestation,  would  be  to 
gather  a  few  cjuarLs  of  chestnuts  or  acorns  freshly  fallen  from 
the  trees,  :uui  put  them  in  glass  jars  to  stand  awhile.  The 
lar\'ae  ea\'ing  the  nuts  (emerging  through  remarkably 
small  holes  which  they  gnaw  through  the  shell)  will  descend 
to  the  bottoms  of  the  jars  and  remain  there,  where  readily 
seen.  They  will  begin  to  emerge  at  once,  and  iu  less  than  a 
fortnight  all  will  be  out,  and  may  be  counted.  These,  and 
twig-pruners  and  bark-beetles,  etc.,  all  have  Lu  be  reckoned 
with  in  the  orchard  where  nuts  are  cultivated.  In  this  study 
we  will  gn\-e  our  attention  to  the  nuts,  noting  the  infesting 
animals  only  incidentally. 

Study  3.     The  Nuts  of  the  Farm 

There  is  but  a  short  period  of  a  week  to  ten  days  about  the 
time  of  the  first  hard  frost,  when  the  work  here  outlined  can 
best  be  done.  Take  advantage  of  it,  shifting  the  date  of 
other  studies,  if  need  be.  The  tools  needed  will  be  hainmers 
for  cracking  the  shells,  and  pocket  knives  for  cutting  the  soft 
parts  of  the  nuts;  also,  containers  for  taking  specimens 
home.  The  use  of  lineman's  climbers  and  of  beating-sticks  in 
the  tree-tops  is  permissible  to  a  careful  and  experienced  per- 
son; but  the  use  of  hooks  on  light  poles  for  drawhig  down 
horizontal  boughs  within  reach  from  the  ground  is  safer, 
and  has  the  advantage  that  all  members  of  the  class  can  see 
what  is  going  on. 

The  program  of  the  work  will  include  a  visit  to  the  nut- 
bearing  trees  and  an  examination  of  their  crop,  first  on  the 


NUTS  OP  THE  FARM  31 

tree, then  in  the  hulls,  then  shelled,  then  cracked;  then  an 
examination  of  the  quality  of  the  kernels. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in: 

1 .  A  table  prepared  with  column  headings  as  indicated  on 
pages  28  and  29,  and  filled  out  from  the  study  of  the  speci- 
mens. 

2.  Simple  sectional  diagrams,  showing  the  structure  of 
such  diverse  forms  as  the  following: 

(a)  A  butternut  or  walnut. 

(b)  A  hickory  nut  or  pecan. 

(c)  An  acorn. 

(d)  A  beechnut  or  chestnut. 

(e)  A  linden  nutlet. 


r\'.     THE  FARM  STREAM 

"All  the  rivers  run  into  the  sea;  yet  the  sea  is  not  full;  uuto  the  place 
Jrom  'ivhetice  the  rivers  come,  thither  they  return  again." 

— Ecclesiastes  1:7. 

There  was  a  time  when  the  streams  of  our  "well-watered 
country"  were  more  highly  prized  than  now.  They  were 
storehouses  of  food.  They  were  highways  of  travel.  They 
were  channels  of  transportation.  Several  things  happened  to 
divert  interest  landward.  The  good  timber  along  the  valleys 
was  all  cut  and  there  were  no  more  logs  to  be  floated  down- 
stream to  mill.  The  American  plow  was  invented,  making 
possible  the  tillage  of  vastly  increased  areas  of  ground. 
More  cereals  c(3uld  be  grown  and  more  forage  for  cattle.  The 
fishes  of  the  streams  became  less  necessary  for  food;  and 
\vith  the  phenomenally  rapid  increase  of  population  which 
followed,  the  fishing  failed.  It  became  easier  and  cheaper  to 
raise  cattle  for  food  than  to  get  it  by  fishing.  Then  came  the 
railroads,  providing  more  direct  and  speedy  transportation 
and  travel;  and  the  streams  were  abandoned.  Indeed, 
what  happened  to  them  was  worse  than  neglect.  The  regu- 
larity of  their  su])ply  of  water  was  interfered  with  as  the  water- 
holding  forest  cover  was  destroyed  and  springs  dried  u]). 
They  became  dumping  places  for  the  refuse  of  all  sorts  of 
establishments  along  their  banks.  Not  even  their  beaut\'  was 
cared  for — their  singular  beauty  of  mirroring  surfaces  and 
sinuous  banks  of  broad  bordering  meadows,  backed  by 
wooded  headlands.  The  pioneer  was  not  so  blind  to  the 
grander  beauties  of  nature.  Go  through  the  country  and 
mark  where  the  first  settlements  were  made.  You  will  find 
them  not  far  from  the  waterside,  but  situated  where  the  ample 
beauties  of  land  and  water,  hill  and  vale,  are  spread  out  to 
view.     Our  predecessors  would  not  have  been  satisfied  with  a 

32 


THE  FARM  STREAM  '  33 

seven-by-nine  lot,  a  bit  of  lawn  with  a  peony  in  the  front 
yard,  and  a  view  of  an  asj^halt  pavement. 

Before  the  surveyor  came  along,  lines  were  laid  down 
according  to  the  law  of  gravity.  The  land  was  divided  and 
subdivided,  not  by  fences,  but  by  streams. 

Chief  among  the  agencies  that  have  shaped  our  farms  is  the 
power  of  moving  water.  By  it  the  soils  have  been  mixed  and 
sifted  and  spread  out.  Water  runs  down  hill,  and  the  soils 
move  ever  with  it.  With  every  flood,  a  portion  is  carried  a 
little  way,  to  be  dropped  again  as  the  current  slackens,  and 
another  portion  is  carried  farther,  to  mix  with  soils  from 
various  distant  sources  and  form  new  fields  at  lower  levels. 
Small  fields  are  forming  now  in  the  beds  and  borders  of  every 
stream.  And  there,  even  as  on  land,  some  of  them  are  ex- 
posed, shifting  and  barren,  and  others  are  sheltered  and  set- 
tled and  productive. 

The  rain  descends  upon  the  fields  and  starts  down  every 
slope,  gathering  the  loosened  soil  particles,  collecting  in  rills, 
increasing  in  volume,  and  cutting  gullies  and  picking  up 
loosened  stones,  and  pouring  its  mixture  of  mud  and  stones 
into  the  creek  at  the  foot  of  the  slope.  Then  what  does  the 
creek  do  with  this  flood-time  burden?  Go  down  to  its  banl<:s 
and  see.  See  where  it  has  dropped  the  stones  in  ttmibled 
heaps  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids;  the  gravel,  in  loose  beds  just 
below;  the  sand,  in  bars  where  the  current  slackens;  the 
mud  in  broad  beds  where  the  water  is  still ;  for  its  carrying 
power  lessens  as  its  flow  slackens,  and  it  holds  the  finest 
particles  longest  in  suspension. 

It  will  be  evident  that,  of  all  these  deposits,  the  mud  fiats 
are  least  subject  to  further  disttirbance  by  later  floods.  Here, 
then,  plants  may  grow,  least  endangered  by  the  impact  of 
stones  and  gravel  and  sand  in  later  floods  or  by  the  out-going 
ice  in  spring.  So  here  are  the  creek's  pleasant  fields  of  green, 
its  submerged  meadows,  whereas  the  beds  where  the  current 
runs  swiftly  appear  comparatively  barren. 


34 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF   THE  FARM 


THK    PLANT    LIFE    OF    THE    STREAM 

The     rapids 
are  by  no  means 
destitute  of  life. 
Given    natural 
^IV~^  i^  Py   r^^      1^  waters,    a    tem- 

perature above 
freezing,  light 
and  air,  plants 
will  grow  any- 
where:  here, 
they  must  be 
such  plants  as 
can  withstand 
the  shower  of 
stones  that  every 
flood  brings 
down  upon  them. 
They  must  be 
simpl>-  Drganized  j^lants,  that  are  not  killed  when  their  cell 
masses  are  broken  asunder.  Such  plants  are  the  algae ;  and 
these  abound  in  the  swiftest  waters.  They  form  a  thin 
stratum  of  vegetation  covering  the  surfaces  of  rocks  and  tim- 
bers. Its  prevaiHng  color  is  brown,  not  green.  Its  dominant 
plants  are  diatoms.  These  form  a  soft,  gelatinous,  and  xoxy 
slippery  coating  over  the  stones.  Individually  they  are  too 
small  to  be  recognized  without  a  microscope,  but  collec- 
tively, by  reason  of  their  nutritive  value  and  their  rapid 
rate  of  increase,  they  constitute  the  fundamental  forage 
sui  iply  for  a  host  of  animals  dwelling  in  the  stream  bed  with 
them. 

There  are  green  algec  also  in  the  rapids.  The  most  con- 
si)icuous  of  these  is  Cladophora,  which  grows  in  soft  trailing 
masses  of  microscopic  filaments,  fringing  the  edges  of  stones  in 


Fig.  12.     Spray  of  riverweed   (Potamogeton  crispus) 
Frnm  a  drawing  by  Miss  Emmcline  Moore. 


THE  FARM  vSTREAM 


35 


the  swiftest  ciin'ent,  or  trailing  down  the 
ledges  in  the  waterfall,  or  encircling  the 
piling  where  the  waves  wash  it  constantly. 
It  is  of  a  bright  green  color.  There  are  apt 
to  be  various  other  algse  also,  some  forming 
spots  and  blotches  of  blue-green  color  on  the 
surfaces  of  rocks,  where  partly  exposed  at  low 
water,  and  others  forming  little  brownish 
gelatinous  lumps  like  peas  lying  on  the 
stream  bed.  Of  the  higher  plants  there  will 
be  hardly  any  present  in  the  rapids :  per- 
haps, a  few  trailing  mosses  or  other  creepers 
rooted  in  the  crevices  at  the  edge  of  the  cur- 
rent, and  just  escaping  annihilation  at  every 
flood. 

In  quiet  waters  covering  muddy  shoals 
the  vegetation  is  richer  and  more  varied. 
The  dominant  plants  are  seed  plants. 
Some  of  these  (such  as  are  shown  in  Figs.  1 2 
and  13)  grow  wholly  submerged.  A  few  grow 
rooted  to  the  bottom,  but  have  broad 
leaves  (Fig.  14)  that  rest  upon  the  surface. 
A  few  small  plants  (Fig.  15)  float  free  upon  the  surface  in  the 
more  sheltered  openings.     And  there  are  many  rooted  in  the 


Fig.  13.  Leaf-form 
in  three  common  sub- 
merged plants  whose 
leaves  grow  in  whorls 
surrounding  the  stem 
at  the  nodes:  a,  the 
common  water-weed 
(Elodea  canadensis  or 
Philotria  canadensis) ; 
6,  the  water  horn- 
wort  {Ceratophyllum 
denr'rsum);  c,  the 
water  milfoil  {Myruy- 
phylLum). 


Fig.  14.  Outlines  of  four  common  kinds  of  floating  leaves:  a,  the  floating  river- 
weed  (Potantogeton  natans) ;  b,  the  spatter-dock  (Nymphcea  advena) ;  c,  the  white  water- 
lily  {Caslaillia  odorataj;  d,  the  water  shield  {Brasenia  peltata). 


36 


NATIR.M.  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


? 


Pig.   1'».     Floating  plants:    a.    duckweeds; 


mud  at  the  bottom,  that 
stand  erect  and  emer- 
gent with  their  tops 
above  the  water.  A 
few  of  the  more  strik- 
ing and  characteristic 
1 6.     Algae    are    common 


b.  the  floating  liverwort  {Ricciocarpus  natatis). 

of  these  are  sho^^Tl  in  Figure 
enough  here  also.  Bro\\ii  coatings  of  diatom  ooze  over- 
spread the  submerged  stems,  and  flocculent  green  mats 
of  "blanket  algae"  lie  in  sheltered  openings,  often  buoyed  to 
the  surface  on  bubbles  of  oxygen. 


THE  ANIMAL  LIFE  OF  THE  STREAM 

The  animals  that  li\'e  in  the  rapids  are  small  in  size,  but 
most  interesting  in  the  adaptations  by  means  of  which  they 
are  enabled  to  withstand  the  on-rush  of  the  waters.  One  of 
them  at  least,  the  black-fly  lar\-a,  occurs  in  such  numbers  as 
to  form  conspicuous  black  patches  in  most  exposed  places — 
on  the  very  edge  of  the  stones  that  fonn  the  brink  of  waterfalls 
and  on  the  sides  of  obstructions  in  the  current.  Individually 
these  lar\'ae  are  small  (half  an  inch  long),  with  bag-sha]  ed 
bodies,  swollen  toward  the  rear  end,  where  attached  b\'  a 
single  sucking  disc  to  the  supporting  surface.  Attached  in 
thousands  side  by  side, 
they  often  thickly  cover 
and  blacken  several 
square  feet  of  surface. 
They  sway  gently  in  the 
current  as  they  hang  with 
heads  down  stream. 

These  larv'ae  spin  at- 
tachment      threads       by  f,g.  le.     Aquatics  that  rise  from  standing 

means  of  which  they  may      ^.h^s;;:.c'^flJ^u?o""^;?,JS■,;f;";^'hi  bSi 
change     location.      The      j-<n»«5^^«i;'^""-^-'Mmi;<(.thc  cat-taU 


THE  FARM  STREAM  37 

thread  is  exuded  at  the  mouth  (as  a 
liquid  which  hardens  on  contact  with  the 
water),  attached  to  the  stone  and  spun 
out  to  the  desired  length.  The  larva,  with  th^hiack^&y'^tsimuiiuml 
disc  loosened,  swings  free  upon  the  thread, 
reversed  in  position  and  hanging  with  head  upstream. 
After  a  time  it  will  fasten  itself  by  its  sucker  again.  By 
using  a  very  short  thread  and  its  sucker  alternately,  the 
larva  may  move  short  distances  over  the  supporting  surface 
in  a  series  of  loopings,  its  position  being  reversed  at  each 
attachment  in  a  new  place.  Black-fly  larvae  are  excellent 
food  for  fishes,  but  they  live  for  the  most  part  in  places  that 
are  to  fishes  wholly  inaccessible.  They  feed  upon  micro- 
scopic organisms  and  refuse  adrift  in  the  stream,  and  they 
gather  their  food  out  of  the  passing  current  by  means  of  a  pair 
of  fan-like  strainers,  located  on  the  front  of  the  head  near  the 
mouth.  Adiilt  black-flies  of  certain  species  bite  fiercely  in 
northern  forests.  Other  species,  known  as  "buffalo-gnats" 
and  "turkey-gnats",  are  important  pests  of  live  stock.  Other 
species  are  harmless. 

In  the   same     situations    with    the 
black-fly  larvae,   the  neat  little  food- 
traps  of  the  seine-making  caddis-worms 
may  always  be  found.     Each  is  a  little, 
transparent,  funnel-shaped  net,  half  an 
Fig.  18.   Diagram  of  a  inch  wide.  Opening  always    upstream, 
Sn?apjfr?tus  and'Til  and  tapcHng  downward   into  a   silken 
thl^diVe^Aiorof ?he^?urrent  tubc,  lodgcd  in  somc  sheltering  crevice, 

over  the  stream  bed ;  a,  the    -^      .   i,*    1         ii  •  i  mi  u 

front  edge  of  the  distended  iH    which    the     grccmsh,    gill-beanng 

watir  ^iJ^strainldrl  the  caddis-worm  that  makes  it  dwells. 
mes&the^'bJtfom  of  the       Then  thcrc  is  a  group  of  diverse  in- 

"oor^ftttuir^in which  scct  larvac  found     habitually    in    the 

the    larva    dwells,    in    the    „       •  j  i  •        •  x  j.  j.i      a. 

shelter  of  the  rock,  d.  (After  rapids   clmgmg   to   stoucs,    that  agree 
Mi^HceA.'NoyS"^^'^  in   being    flattened  and   more   or  less 


38 


NATURAL    HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


limpct-shapcd.  Two  of  these  are  sliown  in 
^  Figure  i<;.  In  all  of  them  flaring  margins 
^•S  of  the  body  fit  down  closely  to  the  stone  and 
V^  deflect  the  water,  so  that  it  presses  them 
J^   against  their  sui)]X)rt. 

In    still    water    the   deep   pools   are    the 


Pic.  19.     Two 

in«H:t  hirvae   that  spccial  homc  of  thc  larger  fishes.     We   shall 

stick   to    stones  m       ^  ^ 

rapidwatrr:  a.  the  rctum   to  thcm  in  thc  next  study.     In  the 

flat      nmc-  tuctle 

^ui'-^b^^'thJ^n^cV  s^^^^r  parts  and  in  the  midst  of  the  aquatic 
vdncfi  midge  (BU-  vcgctation  arc  the  lesser  fishes  and  many  other 
familiar  vertebrates,  frogs  and  their  tad])oles, 
salamanders,  turtles,  etc.,  of  uncertain  occurrence.  Much 
more  generally  distributed  and  constantly  present  are  a 
few  molluscs  and  crustaceans,  such  as  are  shown  in  Figure 
20.  There  are  a  few  adult  insects  (fig.  21)  and  many  insects 
in  immature  stages  (figs.  22,  23)  and  24.  Some  help  toward 
the  recognition  of  these  may  be  had  from  the  table  on  pages 
40  and  41,  which  contains  brief  hints,  also,  of  the  situation 
they  occu])y  in  the  water  and  the  role  they  play  in  the  food 
consumption. 

There  are  leeches,  and  fresh-water  sponges  and  bryozoans, 
and  a  host  of  lesser  forms  of  many  groups,  mostly  too  small  to 


r/fcsryir£'iyvs 


MOL  L  usc:> 


Fig.  20.  Some  common  crustaceans  and  molluscs:  crawfish,  with  the  asellus  at 
thc  I'^ft  and  the  scud  (Gammarus)  at  the  ri^ht; — also,  a  mussel  and  two  snails; 
(LimiKta,  on  the  left,  and  Planorbis  on  the  right). 


THE  FARM   STREAM 


39 


Fig.  21.  Adult  aquatic  insects:  a,  the  back-swimmer 
(Nolonecta);  6,  the  water-boatman  (Corixa);  c,  a  diving- 
beetle  (Dytiscus);  d,  a  giant  water-bug  (Benacus). 


be  seen  without  a 
lens  and  too  num- 
erous even  to  be 
mentioned  here. 
The  water  is  hke 
another  world  of 
life,  containing  a 
few  forms  that  are 
directly  useful  to 
us  and  many  more 
that  furnish  for- 
age for  these;  containing  a  few  that  are  noxious  when 
adults,  such  as  black-flies,  horse-flies  and  mosquitoes,  and  a 
host  of  other  forms,  all  of  interest  to  the  naturalist,  but  not 
known  to  be  of  practical  importance.  They  are  all  a  part 
of  the  native  population  of  the  stream,  and  each  has  a  share 
in  carrying  on  its  natiu-al  social  functions. 

In  the  water  as  on  land,  green  plants  represent  the  great 
producing  class,  while  animals  and  parasitic  plants  are  the  con- 
sumers. And  among 
the  animals  there 
are  herbivores  and 
carnivores,  parasites 
and  scavengers. 

One  who  but  casu- 
a  1 1  y  examines  the 
animal  life  of  the 
stream  is  apt  to  see 
chiefly  carnivorous 
forms ;  for  these  are 
most  i  n  evidence : 
^  and  here,    as     else- 

Co'^to/omus  (after  'Helen    Wiiliamson    Lyman)  •    fc     a  .^^^.U^^p  hplbivorCS 

dobsun  larva,  or  hellgrammite.  Coryda/ts  cor«M<a  (after  WncrC,  nClDlVOrtb, 

Lintner);    c.  an  orl-fly  larva,  Sialis  (after  Maude  H.  U  f^  \  ^  „  nnnrlv 

Anthony).  UClUg  puoiiy 


Fig.  22.     Aquatic  insect  larvae:  a,  a  diving-beetle 
Co^to^omus  (after    Helen    Williamson^  Lyman) ;    fc_. 


40  Recognition    characters   of  some  oj  the  cotmnoner 

Single  distinctive  characti  : 

1.     Forms  in  which  tlic   immature   stages    (commonly    known  as  nymphs 
and  are  plainly  visible  upon  the  back. 

Common  Name 


Stone-flies 

May-flies 
Damsel- flies 

Dragon-flies 

Water-bugs 


Order 

Form 

Taiis 

Plecoptera 

depresseQ 

2,  long 

Ephemerida 
Odonata 

elongate,  variable 
slender,  tapering 

rear- 

3,  long:    (rarely  2) 
sec  gills 

Odonata 

stout,  variable 

very      short,     spinelike 

Hemiptera 

short,  stout,  very 
adults 

like 

variable 

2.     Forms  in  which  the  immature  stages  differ  very  greatly  from  the  adults 
internally  and  not  visible  from  the  outside,  and  having  the  legs  shorter,  rudi- 


Common  Name 

Order 

Legs 

Gills 

Water-moths 

Lepidoptera 

3      pairs      of      minute 
jomted  legs  followed 
by  a  number  of  pairs 
of  fleshy  prolegs 

of  numerous  soft  white 
filaments,  or  entirely 
wanting 

Caddis- worms 

Trichoptera 

3  pairs  rather  long 

variable  or  wanting 

Orl-flies 

Neuroptera 

3  pairs  shorter 

7  pairs  of  long,  lateral 
filaments 

Dobsons 

Neuroptera 

3  pairs 

tufted  at  base  of  lateral 
filaments,  or  want- 
ing 

Water-beetles 

Coleoptera 

3  pairs 

usually  wanting 

True  flies 

Diptera 

wanting 

usually  only  a  bunch 
of  retractile  anal  gills 

3.     Further  characters  of  some  common  dipterous  larvae.     These  are  distin- 


CoMMON  Name 


Crane-flies 

Net-veined  midges 

Mosquitoes 

Black-flies 

True  midges 

Soldier-flies 
Horse-flies 

Snipe-flies 

Syrphus- flies 

Muacid  flies 


Family 


TiptUidae 

Blepharoceridae 

Culicidae 

Simuliidae 

Chironomidae 

Stratiomyiidae 
Tabanidac 

Leptidae 

Syrphidae 

Muscoidea 


Head 


Tail 


retracted   and   invisible 

a  respiratory  disc  bord- 
ered with  fleshy  ap- 
pendages 

tap>ering   into    body 

wanting 

free 

with  swimming  fin  of 
fringed  hairs 

free 

with  caudal  ventral 
aUachment  disk 

free 

tufts  of  hairs 

small,  free 

floating  hairs 

acutely  tapering 

tapering  body 

tapering,  retractile 

with  two  short  taper- 
ing tails 

minute 

extensile  process  as 
long  as  the  body 

rudimentary 

truncated 

41 


forms  of  aquatic  insects  in  their  immature  stages. 

are  printed  in  italics. 

are  not  remarkably  different  from  the  adults.       The  wings  develop  externally 


Gills 


many,  minute,  around 
bases  of  the  legs 

7  pairs  on  hack 

3  leaflike  caudal  gill- 
plates 

internal  gill  chamber 
at  end  of  body 

wanting 


Other    Peculiarities 


immense  grasping  lower 
lip 

immense  grasping  lower 
lip 

jointed  beak  for  punc- 
turing   and    sucking 


Habitat 


rapids 

all  waters 

slow  and  stagnant 

waters 
slow  and  stagnant 

waters 
all  waters 


Pood-habits 


mainly   carnivorous 

mainly  herbivorous 
carnivorous 

carnivorous 

carnivorous 


of  the  same  species,    being  more  or  less  wormlike,    having    wings    developed 
mentary,  or  even  wanting  {larvae  proper). 


Rear    End    of    Body 


a  pair  of  fleshy  pro 
legs  with  numerous 
claws  on  them 

do.,  with  paired  larger 

hooks  at  tip 
a  long  tapering  tail 

paired  hooked  claws 


variable 

see  next  table 


Other   Peculiarities 


mostly   living   in   port- 
able cases 


head    small,  often    ap- 
parently wanting 


Habitat 

Food  Habits 

still  waters 

herbivorous 

all  waters 

mostly  herbivorous 

gravelly  beds 

carnivorous 

all  waters 

carnivorous 

slow  or  stagnant  waters   carnivorous 
all  waters  see  next  table 


guished  from  aquatic  larvae  of  other  groups  by  the  absence  of  true  legs. 


Fleshy  Legs,  or  Pro 

LEGS 


variable 

wanting 

wanting 

one  beneath  the  mouth 

/    in    front,  2    at    rear 

end  of  body 
wanting 
wanting 

stout  paired  beneath 

j  wanting 

usually  wanting 


Other    Peculiarities 


Habitat 


flat  lobed  body  with 
row  of  ventral  suckers 

swollen  thoracic  seg 
ments 

"fans"  on  head  for 
food-gathering 

live  mostly  in  soft 
tubes 

depressed  form 

tubercle  covered  spin- 
dle-shaped body 


shoals 

rocks  in  falls 

pools  (at  surface) 

rocks  in  rapids 

all  waters 

still  water  (at  surface) 
beds  in  pools 

rapids  under  stones 

shallow  pools 


Food  Habits 


herbivorous  mostly 

diatoms,  etc. 

herbivorous 

herbivorous 

herbivorous 

herbivorous 
carnivorous 

carnivorous 


42 


NATLRAI.    HISTORY  OF  Till:    FARM 


Fig.  23.  Immature  statjes 
of  four  common  neuroptcrous 
insects:  a,  ailragon-fly  (.4  wax 
Junius  ;  b,  a  damsel-fly 
iAmphiagrion  amphion);  c,  a 
stone-fly  fAcroneuria  sp?)\ 
</,  a  may-fly    ^Callibatis  spf). 


cquii)i)cd  for  ri};htin^\  camiol  afford  to 
be  conspicuous.  But  if  oiio  will  reflect 
that  carnivores  can  not  maintain 
themselves  indefinitely  by  eating  one 
another,  and  will  look  a  little  more 
closely,  he  will  find  plenty  of  the 
herbivorous  forms.  These  are  they 
whose  economic  function  is  that  of 
"turning  grass  into  flesh,  in  order  that 
carnivorous  Goths  and  Vandals  may 
subsist  also,  and  in  their  turn  pro- 
claim 'All  flesh  is  grass'  "  (Coues). 
The  most  widespread,  abundant, 
and  important  of  the  herbivores  of  the 
stream  are  apt  to  be  the  scuds  (Fig. 
2o),  the  may-fly  n\Tnphs  (Fig.  23,^), 
and  the  lar\\ne  of  inidges  (Fig.  24,^). 


Study  4.     The  Farm  Stream 

This  study  assumes  that  there  is  accessible  some  creek,  or 
large  brook  or  small  river,  having  rapids  and  shoals  and  pools 
and  reed-gro^^^l  bays  in  it,  all  easy  of  access.  If  the  banks 
where  the  work  is  to  be  done  are  too  soft,  rubber  boots  for 
wading,  or  temporary  walks  that  wdll  make  wading  unneces- 
sar\%  will  have  to  be  provided.  Each  student  should  be  pro- 
vided with  a  dip-net  for  catching  specimens,  a  shallow  dish  in 
which  to  examine  them,  a  lifter  with  which  to  transfer  them, 
and  a  few  vials  in  which  small  specimens  may  be  examined 
with  a  lens. 

A  normal  condition  of  the  stream  is  necessary;  high  water 
and  great  tiu-bidity  will  render  the  work  unsatisfactory. 

Program — Go  over  the  area  marked  for  examination,  begin- 
ning with  the  pools  having  mud  bottom,  and  proceeding  to 


THE    FARM   STREAM 


43 


Fig.  24.  The  larvae  of  four  two-winged 
flies  (Diptera):  a,  the  swale-fly  (Sepedon), 
withdrawing  beneath  the  surface  film  of  the 
water;  b,  the  punkie  iCeratopogon);  c,  the 
phantom  midge  larva  fCo>-ei/;ra);  and  d,  the 
common  midge  (Chironomus). 


the  rapids.  Note  the 
extent  of  mud,  sand, 
gravel,  rubble,  and  flat- 
stone  bottom,  and  their 
relation  to  slope  and  cur- 
rent. Note  also  the 
physical  conditions  that 
organisms  have  to  meet 
in  each  situation. 

Collect  and  examine 
the  commoner  plants 
and  animals,  first  of  the 

rapids  and  then  of  the  still   water,    omitting  the    fishes, 
(except  to  note  where  they  are  seen. ) 

The  Record  of  this  study  will  consist  of: 

I.  A  map,  on  which  are  indicated  as  clearly  as  possible: 

1 .  Waterfalls  and  riffles. 

2.  The  extent  of  each  sort  of  bottom. 

3 .  The  principal  plant  beds . 

4.  The  fish  pools. 

II.  List  of  all  the  water  plants  observed,  arranged  in  a 
table  with  colimm  headings  as  follows: 

Name  (this  will  be  supplied  by  the  instructor) . 
Grows  where  (that  is,  in  which  of  the  situations  examined) . 
Depth  of  ^ater  (approximate) . 

Growth-habit  (simple  or  branched,  erect  or  trailing,  stem- 
less,  leafless,  etc.). 
Remarks. 

III.  List  of  all  the  water  animals  observed,  arranged  in  a 
table  with  colimm  headings  as  follows: 

Name  (this  will  be  supplied  by  instructor,  if  needed) . 
Lives  where  (in  which  of  the  situations  examined). 


44  NATURAL   HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 

At  what  depth  (approximate). 

Eats  what  (your  own  specific  observations  rather  than 

general  data  taken  from  table). 
Habits  of  locomotion  (walking,  swimming,  looping,  etc.). 
Remarks. 

IV.  A  suinmaiy  and  comparison  of  the  chief  differences 
between  the  several  situations,  and  of  the  differences  in 
abundance  and  kind  of  plant  and  animal  inhabitants. 


V.     Till-:    1' [SHI'S    OF    THK    FARM    STREAM 

"I'o  dangle  your  legs  uhcre  the  fishing  is  good 
Can't  you  arrange  to  come  do'tvni'" 

—  Riley  (To  the  Judge). 

Before  the  days  of  husbandry,  man's  supply  of  animal  food 
consisted  of  fish  and  game.  Edible  things  found  running  on 
land  were  game :  if  found  in  the  water,  they  were  fish.  So 
we  have  the  names  shellfish,  cra\vfish,  cuttlefish,  etc.,  still 
applied  to  things  that  are  not  fishes  at  all.  The  true  fishes 
were,  and  probably  always  will  be,  the  chief  staple  crop  of  the 
water. 

While  waters  were  i^lenty  and  men  were  few,  fishes  fur- 
nished the  most  constant  and  dependable  supply  of  animal 
food.  The  streams  teemed  with  them.  There  were  many 
kinds.  They  were  easily  procured.  Before  there  were 
utensils,  fishes  were  spitted  over  an  open  fire,  or  roasted  in 
the  coals.  But  ancient  and  important  as  the  fish  supply  has 
been  to  us,  we  ha\'e  not  taken  measures  adequate  to  its 
preser\^ation.     We  have  cared  for  the  crops  of  the  field  and  the 


Fig.  26.     DiaRram  of  a  fish  (the  black  bass)  with   the  fins  named  on  the  diagram: 
ventral  Jin  is  also'called  pelvic.       Drawing  by  Mi'^^  ?->...,,th-  rurtis. 


46 


FISHES  OF   THE   FARM    STREAM  47 


Fig.  27.     The  common  bullhead.       A  race  of  short-horned  bullheads 
is  much  to  be  desired. 

garden,  and  have  neglected  most  of  the  others.  The  back- 
ward state  of  fish  culture  among  us  may  be  expressed  by 
saying  that  we  have  developed  no  means  of  growing  natural 
forage  for  fishes  or  of  managing  them  in  ordinary  waters  in 
pure  cultures  under  control,  and  we  have  hardly  any  valuable 
cultural  varieties. 

Many  of  our  wild  fishes,  however,  are  excellent:  the 
basses,  and  the  perches,  and  the  catfishes,  for  example.  And 
for  the  most  part  they  are  very  hardy  and  are  widely  distrib- 
uted in  our  inland  waters.  If  the  fish  fauna  of  any  con- 
siderable stream  be  carefully  explored,  doubtless  a  number 
of  good,  bad,  and  indifferent  kinds  of  fishes  will  be  found. 
Bullheads  and  sunfishes  are  nearly  everywhere  in  permanent 
fresh  water;  and  what  excellent  materials  for  selection  they 
offer !  True,  the  bullheads  are  nearly  all  head  and  horns,  but 
what  flesh  they  have  is  excellent  quality.  What  we  need  is 
to  develop  a  race  of  shorthorns  among  them.  If  such  im- 
provement of  them  were  made  by  selection  and  care  as  has 
been  made  with  cattle  and  hogs,  what  fine  table  fishes  we 
should  have;  and  everybody  might  have  them  in  his  owti 
water  garden. 

Fishes  are  the  dominant  animal  forms  in  all  fresh  waters : 
in  powers  of  locomotion  they  surpass  all  other  aquatic 
creatures.  Their  fighting  powers  are  good.  Consequently 
we  find  them  in  full  possession  of  the  open  waters,  while  most 


48  NATURAL  HISTORY   OF   TUL    FARM 


V 
Fig.  I'S.     The  pike. 


Other  dwellers  in  the  stream  are  restricted  to  the  shoals  and 
to  the  shelter  of  rocks  or  of  vegetation.  Certain  of  them  like 
Ihe  ]nke  (fig.  28)  are  specialized  for  feeding  at  the  surface: 
others,  like  the  sucker  (fig.  29),  for  feeding  at  the  bottom; 
and  the  mouth  is  turned  up  or  do\\Ti  accordingly.  The  best 
of  them  are  cami\'orous  and  eat  habitually  other  smaller 
fishes.  The  rock  bass  seems  to  prefer  crawfishes  as  food. 
Most  of  them  eat  the  lar\^ae  of  may-flies  and  midges,  though 
the  pikes  demand  bigger  game.  The  sheepshead  eats  mol- 
luscs, crushing  the  shells  with  its  flat-topped  molarlike  teeth. 
Fishes  are  among  the  most  beautiful  of  living  things. 
Their  colors  are  splendid.  Their  motions  are  all  easy  and 
graceful.  Their  habits  are  most  interesting  and  varied. 
Nearly  all  the  common  forms  are  included  in  six  or  seven 
families :  the  catfishes,  the  trouts,  the  pikes  (including  the 
pickerel),  the  suckers,  the  minnows  (including  the  huge  caq:)), 
the  perches,  and  the  sunfishes  (including  the  basses) .  It  is  the 
]3ur]X)se  of  the  following  study  to  promote  acquaintance  with 
some  of  these. 

Study  5.     Creek  Fishes 

A  representative  lot  of  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  larger  com- 
mon fishes  should  be  available  for  this  exercise.  It  were 
better  to  have  most  of  them  collected  in  advance  and  kept 
alive  for  examination.  A  seine  may  be  drawTi,  or  traps  taken 
up,  as  a  part  of  the  exercise,  but  often  there  are  uncertainties 


FISHES  OF  THE  FARM  STREAM 


49 


as  to  the  catch,  which  are  to  be  avoided.  The  Hving  fishes 
may  be  displayed  in  aquaria  set  up  on  high  benches,  or  the 
fishes  may  be  strung  singly  to  stakes  in  the  shore  and  drawn 
forth  for  examination. 

The  program  will  consist  (i)  in  whatever  fishing  is  made  a 
part  of  the  class  exercise ;  (2 )  then  in  a  careful  examination  of 
the  fishes  of  each  species  and  a  writing  of  their  recognition 
characters  in  a  table  prepared  after  the  manner  indicated  on 
pages  50  and  51. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in  the  completed  table, 
together  with  notes  on  the  places  where  each  species  was 
taken  and  the  method  of  its  capture. 


Fig.  29.     The  sucker. 


50 


RECOGNITION  CHARACTERS 


Name 


Sise 


Length*         Ra.tio' 


Form* 


Scales^ 


Mouth* 


'  Length  (when  grown)  in  inches.  '  Ratio  of  depth  to  length. 

'  CyUndrical,  depressed,  or  compressed.  ■♦  Large  or  small  or  wanting 

5  Large  or  small,  terminal  or  inferior. 


OF  CASCADILLA  FISHES 


51 


FINS 


Dorsal^ 


Caudal^ 


Pelvic^ 


REMARKS 


^  Diagram  side  view.  ^  Thoracic  or  abdominal. 


VI.      iWSTURL  PLANTS 

"Thou  crcKcnest  the  year  with  thy  goodness;   and  thy  paths  drof)  fatness. 

They  drop  upon  the  pastures  of  the  unlderness:  and  the  little  hills 
rejoice  on  every  side. 

The  pastures  are  clothed  with  flocks;  the  valleys  also  are  covered  over 
with  corn;   they  shout  for  joy,  they  also  sing." 

— A  Psalm  of  David  n'salm  65:11-131. 

Before  there  were  tilled  fields,  there  were  green  pastures. 
The  grazing  animals  made  them.  They  cropped  the  tall 
vegetation  and  tram])led  the  succulent  herbage,  and  pasture 
grasses  s]Drang  up  and  flourished  in  their  stead.  \\Tierever 
there  wore  pieces  of  level  ground  frequented  by  wild  cattle, 
there  pastures  developed. 

Pasture  plants  have  seeds  that  are  readily  carried  about  and 
distributed  by  the  muddy  feet  of  cattle.  They  also  have 
good  staying  qualities :  once  rooted  in  the  soil,  they  will  li\'e 
long  even  where  they  can  grow  but  little.  So  we  find  them 
growing  ever^^vhere,  flourishing  in  the  light,  hanging  on  in  the 
shadow,  as  if  waiting  for  a  chance — even  in  the  deep  shadow 
of  the  woods.  Cut  do^vn  the  trees,  and  the  grasses  appear. 
Keep  all  the  taller  plants  cut  down,  and  the  grasses  spread  and 
fonn  a  meadow.  Brush-covered  hills  are  sometimes  changed 
into  pastures  simply  by  cutting  them  clean  and  turning  in 
sheep.  More  sheep  are  kept  on  them  than  can  find  good 
forage;  so,  they  are  reduced  to  eating  every  green  thing.  It 
is  hard  on  the  sheep,  but  the  grasses,  relieved  of  the  competi- 
tion of  the  taller  plants,  spread  in  spite  of  very  close  cropping. 
After  two  or  three  seasons,  the  hills  are  turf -covered :  the 
woody  plants  are  gone.  This  is  a  crude  method  of  pasture 
making,  and  one  that  is  coming  to  be  practiced  in  our  day 
more  often  with  goats  than  with  sheep,  goats  having  a  \\'ider 
range  of  diet ;    but  it  illustrates  some  fundamental  condi- 

52 


PASTURE   PLANTS  53 

tions.     Keep  almost  any  weed  patch  mown,  and  it  soon 
will  be  grass-covered. 

The  valuable  pastiire  plants  are  all  low-growing  perennials, 
that  spread  over  or  through  the  soil  and  take  root  widely, 
and  that  are  uninjiu-ed  by  the  removal  of  their  tops.  Where- 
fore, an  amount  of  browsing  and  trampling  that  is  sufficient  to 
destroy  their  competitors,  leaves  them  uninjured  and  in 
possession  of  the  soil.  We  raise  some  of  these  pasture  grasses 
on  our  lawns.  We  crop  them  with  a  lawn  mower  to  make 
them  spread,  and  we  compress  the  soil  about  them  with  a 
heavy  roller,  and  a  ttirf  results.  But  these  operations  are 
performed  in  nature  by  means  of  muzzles  and  hoofs. 

If  you  would  understand  the  conditions  pasture  plants  have 
to  meet  you  can  hardly  do  better  than  to  cultivate  friendly 
relations  with  some  gentle  old  cow,  and  follow  her  awhile 
about  the  pasture  watching  the  action  of  her  muzzle  and 
hoofs.  Watch  her  crop  the  grass.  See  how  she  closes  on  it, 
and  swings  forward  and  upward,  drawing  it  taut  across  the 
edges  of  her  incisors  (these  being  in  her  low^er  jaw).  Hear 
the  grass  break  at  the  joints,  and  tear  and  squeak  as  inter- 
nodes  are  mthdrawn  from  their  sheaths.  Then  pull  some 
grass  by  hand,  and  observe  that  while  single  leaves  may  break 
anywhere,  the  stems  for  the  most  part  break  at  the  joints, 
which  are  so  formed  that  little  injury  to  the  plant  results. 
The  parts  necessary  for  re-growth  remain  attached  to  the 
soil  and  uninjured.  Then  try  the  tops  of  any  common  garden 
weeds,  and  observe  that,  for  the  most  part,  they  pull  bodily^ 
out  of  the  ground.  Herein  appears  one  of  the  characteristics 
of  good  pasture  plants:  they  must  be  able  to  withstand 
cropping — even  close  cropping. 

Then  watch  the  old  cow's  hoofs  as  she  walks  about  over  the 
turf.  See  how  they  spread  when  she  steps  in  a  soft  place. 
Look  at  her  tracks  and  see  how  the  sharp  edges  of  her  hoofs 
have  divided  the  turf  and  spread  the  roots  and  underground 


54 


NATURAL  HISTORY    OF  THE   FARM 


stems  of  the  grass  asunder.  If  broken,  take  up  the  pieces  and 
obsen'C  that  each  is  provided  witli  its  own  roots.  Thus,  a 
moderate  amount  of  trampling::  only  serA'es  to  ])ush  the  grasses 
into  new  territory.  Think  liow  disastrous  in  comparison 
would  be  the  descent  of  this  b(n'ine's  hoofs  H])on  the  balsams 

and  cabbages  of  the  garden. 

So,  the  chief  perils  to  plants 
in  the  pasture  are  of  three  sorts. 
The  danger  of  death  from  being 
eaten,  from  being  pulled  up  and 
from  being  trampled.  To  be  sure, 
both  browsing  and  trampling  may 
easily  be  overdone,  and  the  hardi- 
est of  plants  may  be  exterminated. 
Tliis  occurs  in  the  places  where 
the  herds  habitually  stand  in  the 
shade  of  trees.  Furthermore, 
mere  hardiness  will  not  qualify  a 
plant  to  be  a  good  member  of 
the  pasture  society.  The  first 
requisite  of  all  is  that  it  shall  be 
palatable  and  nutritious.  The 
little  wire  rush  (Fig.  30)  is  among 
the  hardiest  of  pasture  plants, 
growing  habitually  in  the  very 
edges  of  the  path,  but  it  is 
well  nigh  worthless  as  forage. 

The  most  valuable  plants  for 
pemianent  pastures  are  all  grasses. 
Indeed,  the  very  best  of  them  arc  native  grasses  that  exist 
today  just  as  they  came  to  us  from  the  hand  of  nature. 
The  only  selection  that  has  been  practiced  on  them  is  the 
natural  selection  that  through  long  ages  has  eliminated  such 
sorts  as  are  not  equipped  to  meet  the  requirements  set. 


Pig.  .■?0.     The  wire  rush 
(J uncus  tenuis). 


PASTURE  PLANTS 


55 
some  other 


Under  certain   conditions   white  clover  and 
plants  are  useful  members  of  permanent  sod. 

There  are  many  other  plants  in  the  pasture,  which  we  con- 
sider undesirable  there,  and  hence  call  weeds.  They  mostly 
produce  abundant  seed  and  have  excellent  means  of  giving  it 
wide  dispersal.     Many  seeds  find  openings  among  the  grasses. 


^-^ 


Fig.  31.  Blue-grass  (a)  and  timothy  (b):  flowering  spikes  and  roots; 
with  the  two  modes  of  producing  new  shoots  underground  shown 
at  (c). 


A  few  of  these  plants  survive  by  virtue  of  the  same  qualities 
that  save  the  grasses.  Some  like  the  thistles  and  the  teasel 
are  spiny,  and  able  to  ward  off  destroyers.  Many,  like  the 
mullein,  the  buttercup,  the  daisy  and  the  yarrow,  are  un- 
palatable and  are  not  sought  by  the  cattle.  Many  grow  well 
imderground  with  only  their  leaves  exposed  to  danger  of 
trampling.  If  some  leaves  are  cut  off,  new  ones  will  promptly 
grow.  Then,  after  a  long  season  of  growth,  they  suddenly 
shoot  up  flower  stalks  into  the  air,  and  quickly  matuue  fruit. 
They  do  this,  too,  at  the  season  of  abundant  grasses,  when 
their  exposed  shoots  are  least  endangered  by  close  cropping. 
Some,  like  the  dandelions  and  the  plantains,  produce  so  many 
flower  stalks  that  they  can  survive  the  loss  of  some  of  them. 
Finally  there  are  some,  like  the  speedwells  and  the  chick- 
weeds,  so  small  that  they  are  inconsequential.  They  merely 
fill  the  chinks  between  the  others. 


56  XATURAl.    HISTORY   OF   THK    FARM 

There  is  one  tree  that  regularly  in\'adcs  our  neglected 
pastures.  It  is  the  hawthorn.  The  cattle  browse  on  it,  but 
thc\-  leave  a  remnant  of  new  growth  every  }'ear.  So  its 
increase  is  ver>'  slow  until  it  gets  beyond  their  reach — slow 
but  sure.  All  the  while  its  dense  cone  of  stubs  is  shaped 
smooihl)'  as  in  a  lathe.  Rut  once  emancipated  from  their 
browsing,  it  suddenly  expands  upward  into  the  nomial 
form    of   the   s])reading  hawthorn  tree. 

Study  6.     Pasture  Plants 

Am-  old  ])asture  will  do  for  this:  the  more  neglected,  the 
more  interesting  its  population  is  likely  to  bo.  The  equip- 
ment needed  is  merely  something  to  dig  witli.  Let  all  the 
work  be  done  individually. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  in  digging  up  one  by  one, 
first  the  f<^rage  plants  and  then  the  weeds,  and  examining  them, 
root  and  branch.  Give  special  study  to  the  forage  plants — 
the  grasses  and  the  clovers.  Dig  them  up  and  pull  them  up. 
Find  their  prcdctennined  breaking  points.  Observe  their 
mode  of  spreading  through  the  soil.  Trample  them,  espec- 
iall\'  with  the  heels  of  your  shoes.  Observe  their  preparedness 
for  the  rooting  of  dismembered  parts.  Observe  in  the  weeds 
also  the  various  ways  in  which  they  avoid  being  pulled  up  or 
eaten  or  trampled  out  of  existence.  Also  stake  out  a  square 
yard  of  typical  pasture  and  take  a  census  of  its  plant  popula- 
tion. 

The  record  of  this  stud}-  will  consist  in : 

I .     Annotated  lists  of : 

(a)  Forage  plants. 

(b)  Weeds  (further  classified  if  desired) ,  with  indica- 

tions of  size,  duration  (whether  annual,  bien- 
nial, or  perennial),  mode  of  seed  dispersal 
(whether  by  wind  or  water  or  carried  by  ani- 
mals on  their  feet  or  in  tlieir  wool) .     Vegetative 


PASTURE    PLANTS  57 

modes  of  increase,  such  as  stolons,  runners,  off- 
sets, suckers,  etc.;  noting  also  special  fitness 
for  pasture  conditions,  as  indicated  above. 

2.  Diagram  a  vertical  section  of  the  soil  and  on  it  show 
form  and  growth-habit  of  half  a  dozen  of  the  more  typical 
pasture  plants,  such  as  the  following : 

(a)  A  grass  that  spreads  by  underground  branches, 

like  a  bluegrass. 

(b)  A  bulbous  grass,  like  timothy. 

(c)  A  creeping  plant,  rooting  along  the  branches,  like 

white  clover. 

(d)  A  rosette-forming,  tall,  single-stemmed  biennial, 

like  teasel  or  dock. 

(e)  A  rosette-forming,  tap-rooted  dwarf,  like  dande- 

lion. 

(f)  A  fibrous-rooted  perennial,  like  the  daisy,  or  but- 

tercup, or  yarrow. 

3.  A  complete  census  of  the  plant  population  of  a  single 
square  yard  of  old  pasture :  names  of  plants  and  numbers  of 
individuals.  It  will  be  necessary  to  state  how  you  have 
counted  individuals  of  the  multiple-rooted  forms. 


\'ir.    Tin:  kdiim.h  wild  roots  ui'  Tin-:  iwrm 

"The  sunshine  floods  (he  fertile  fields 

Where  shining  seeds  are  sown, 
And  lo,  a  miracle  is  icrouiiht; 

For  plants  with  leaves  wind-blown, 
By  magic  of  the  sunbeam's  touch 

Take  from  the  rain  and  dew 
And  earth  and  air,  the  things  of  life 

To  minpje  them  anew, 
And  store  them  safe  in  guarding  earth 

To  meet  man's  hunger-need. 

Then  lo,  the  wonder  grows  complete; 

The  germ  within  the  seed 
Becomes  a  sermon  or  a  song, 

A  kiss  or  kindly  deed." 

— Dean  Albert  W.  Smith. 


Nature  sometimes  caches  her  stores  of  j^ro visions — hides 
them  under<;round..  Slie  puts  them  up  in  mold-proof 
package-^,  and  stows  them  away  in  the  earth,  where,  protected 
from  sudden  changes  of  temperature,  they  keep  for  along 
time.  It  is  chiefly  a  few  of  the  mammals  that  are  the  reci- 
pients of  this  bounty — those  that  can 
burrow  in  the  soU  and  those  that  can 
root.  The  burrowers  are  numerous, 
and  of  very  different  sorts.  They  all 
ha\'e  stout  claws  on  their  fore  feet. 
The  rooters  are  few:  only  the  pigs  and 
their  nearest  allies.  These  have  a  most 
unique  and  beautiful  digging  apparatus, 
hap[)ily  placed  on  the  end  of  the  n  )se, 
where  it  is  backed  by  all  the  pushing 
I)Ower  of  a  stout  body,  and  where  it  is 
directed  in  its  operations  by  the  aid  of 
very  keen  olfactories.  This  is  a  most 
efficient  equipment  for  digging.     If  any- 


Fig.  32.  Nature's  most 
efScient  implement  of 
tillage.  But,  alas!  a 
little  bit  of  metal  ring 
thrust  into  the  sensitive 
base  of  the  "rooter" 
renders  this  beautiful 
contrivance  inoperative, 
reduces  the  efficiency  of 
his  pipship  to  the  com- 
mon level  of  mamma- 
lian kind,  and  leaves 
him  endowed  only  with 
his  appetite. 


THE  EDIBLE  WILD  ROOTS  OF  THE  FARM  59 

thing  good  to  eat  is  buried  in  the  earth,  trust  to  a  normal 
pig  to  find  it.  The  wild  ruminants  also  dig  to  a  certain 
extent  with  the  hoofs  of  their  fore  feet. 

Digging  for  roots  has  been  in  all  ages  an  important  and 
necessary  occupation  of  mankind.  Once  it  was  done  by 
everybody.  For  ages  it  was  the  work  of  women,  while  men, 
in  the  division  of  labor,  assmned  the  more  dangerous  and  more 
exciting  tasks  of  hunting  and  fighting.  Now  it  is  coming  to 
be  the  work  of  machinery,  handled  by  men.  Once  all  the 
roots  were  wild  roots,  and  they  were  used  in  very  great 
variety.  Now  comparatively  few,  which  have  been  selected 
and  improved,  are  cultivated.  The  majority  of  those  that 
have  served  as  human  food  are  neglected.  But  they  may 
still  be  found  in  the  wildwood.  Nature  made  them  hardy  and 
fit.     They  are  still  with  us  unimproved — and  unsubdued. 

These  roots,  which  are  nature's  underground  food  stores, 
are,  many  of  them,  botanically  speaking,  not  true  roots  at  all : 
they  are  merely  the  underground  parts  of  plants,  that  have 
been  developed  as  food  reserves :  and  they  are  primarily  for 
the  benefit  of  the  plant  species  producing  them.  They  are 
the  products  of  the  growth  of  one  season,  stored  up  to  be  used 
in  promoting  the  growth  of  new  individuals  the  next  season. 
Some,  like  the  potato  and  other  tubers,  are  modified  under- 
ground stems;  others,  like  the  onion,  are  bulbs.  They  con- 
tain food  products  far  more  watery  and  less  concentrated 
than  the  nuts  and  the  grains.  Their  flavors  are  less  choice 
than  those  of  the  fruits ;  they  are  of  the  earth,  earthy.  There 
are  few  of  them  that  we  consider  palatable  without  cooking. 
Many  abound  in  starch,  like  the  potato,  and  some,  in  sugar, 
like  certain  beets. 

Of  true  roots  that  are  fleshy,  there  are  many  to  be  found 
wild,  but  few  of  these  are  edible.  The  wild  carrots  and 
parsnips  are  insignificant  as  compared  with  cultivated 
varieties:    the  fleshy  roots   of   weeds    like   the   docks  are 


oo 


NA'I'L'RAL  HISTORY   OF   THE   FARM 


Fig.  33.  The  poison  hem- 
lock: portions  of  flower 
cluster,  leaf  and  root. 


inedible,  and  a  few  like  the  water 
hemlock  (Fig.  t,^)  are  very  ])oison- 
ous.  All  the  cultivated  sorts,  radishes, 
beets,  turnips,  carrots,  parsnips,  chicory- , 
etc.,  are  natives  of  the  old  world.  The 
last  named,  where  cultivated,  is  chiefly 
used  to  make  an  adulterant  for  coffee, 
and  has  scarcely  any  nutritive 
value. 

American  tubers  are  much  more 
valuable.  Indeed,  the  most  valuable 
root  crop  in  the  world  is  the  potato. 
The  potato  crop  stands  among  our 
crops  second  only  to  the  wheat  crojD 
in  cash  value.  And  an  acre  of  potatoes  ma>-  ]jroducc  as 
much  human  food  as  ten  acres  of  wheat.  The  only  other 
native  tuber  that  is  extensively  cultivated  is  that  of  the  arti- 
choke {Hclianthus  tnherosns)  which  maintains  itself 
wild  in  great  patches  in  many  a  rich  bottomland  thicket. 
The  artichoke  is  able  to  win  out  over  the  other  herbaceous 
perennials  by  reason  of  its  sheer  vegetative  vigor:  it  over- 
tops them  all  and  gets  the  sunlight.  And  when  it  blooms,  it 
overspreads  the  thicket  with  a  blaze  of  yellow  sunflowers  in 
late  suinmer.  There  is  another  native  tuber,  however,  of 
great  promise :  it  has  higher  nutriti^'e  value  than  the  potato 
and  is  very  ]jalatable;  it  is  the  so-called  groundnut  {Apios 
hihcrosa).  The  plant  is  a  vine,  that  grows  in  moist  thickets 
and  clambers  over  low  bushes.  It  bears  brownish  purple, 
\'iolet-scented,  papilionaceous  flowers  in  dense  clusters  in  mid- 
simimer.  The  tubers  are  borne  on  slender  underground 
stems,  often  a  number  in  a  row,  and  arc  roundish  or  pear- 
shaped,  very  solid,  and  when  cut,  exude  a  milky  juice,  like  a 
sweet  potato.  Doubtless,  this  \'aluablc  plant,  which  furnished 
the    Indians    with    a     dependable    part     of    their    living, 


THE  EDIBLE  WILD  ROOTS  OF  THE  FARM 


61 


would  have  received  more  attention  among  us  had  it  been 
adapted  by  nature  to  ordinary  field  conditions.  But  it  grows 
in  moist  or  even  wet  soil  and  in  partial  shade.  The 
Indian  cucumber-root  (Fig.  34)  bears  another  sort  of  tuber 
that  might  well  qualify  it  for  a  place  among  our  salad 
plants,  were  the  plant  adapted  to  fields;  but  it  grows  in 
leaf  mold  in  the  shade  of  dense  thickets. 

The  wild  bulbs  of  the  scaly  sort  that  are  edible,  are  the  wild 
onion  and  a  few  of  its  relatives,  the  wild  leeks  and  garlics. 
These  are  valued  not  for  nutritive  value,  but  for  flavoring. 
Here,  again,  the  cultivated  exotic  varieties  are  superior  to 
the  wild  native  ones. 

There  are  a  number  of  interesting 
wild  aroids,  producing  solid  bulbs  or 
corms,  which  were  food  for  the  red 
man,  but  which  we  do  not  use.  They 
grow  mostly  in  wet  soil.  They  are  the 
arrow  arum,  the  skunk  cabbage,  the 
Jack-in-the-pulpit,  etc.  The  related 
taro  is  a  valuable  food  plant  in  the 
Hawaiian  Islands  and  throughout  the 
South  Seas.  Like  these,  it  is  somewhat 
coarse,  and  does  not  keep  well  after 
gathering.  So  it  gets  into  oin*  markets 
only  after  being  dried  and  ground  into 
flour.  The  fierce  acridity  of  the  Jack-in- 
the-pulpit,  which  renders  it  inedible 
when  raw,  is  entirely  removed  by  cook- 
ing. 

Among  the  aroids  is  another  that  is 
worthy  to  be  mentioned  not  as  a  food 
plant,  but  as  one  that  has  been  valued 
for  its  pungency,  and  for  the  magic  powers  mdely  believed  to 
inhere  in  its  root.     It  is  the  sweet  flag   {Acorus  calamus, 


Fig.  34.  Indian  cucum- 
ber-root (Medeola),  an 
excellent  salad  plant. 


62 


XATl'RAL    HISTORY    oF   THE   FARM 


Fig.  16.6);  its  chaniu'il  ])r()iluct,  "calamus  root."  Dried  it  is 
often  nibbled  by  school  children,  and  it  is  candied  by  their 
mothers,  es]M'(iall\- in  Xcw  Eni^land.  and  ser\'ed  as  a  condi- 
ment. 

There  area  number  of  other  native  "roots"  of  semi-aquatic 
plants  tliat  were  eaten  by  the  aborigines.     The  bij^'gest ' 'root" 

of  all  was  the  rhizome  of  the 
spatter-dock — several  feet  long 
and  often  six  inches  thick, 
coarse  and  spongy,  and  full 
of  starch.  The  rootstocks  of 
the  lotus  and  of  several  other 
members  of  the  water-lily  fam- 
ily are  edible;  also,  the  sub- 
terranean offsets  of  the  cat- 
tail. These  were  and  are  fa- 
vorite foods  of  the  muslvrat, 
too.  The  red  man  ate  also 
the  rootstocks  of  the  arrow- 
head and  the  underground  stems  of  the  false  Solomon's 
seal.  Then  if  we  count  the  exotic,  cultivated  peanut  in  its 
pod  a  root  crop,  we  shall  have  to  count  the  native  hog 
peanut  (Amphicarpcea  moiwica,  Fig.  36),  with  its  more 
fleshy  and  root-like  subterranean  pod,  also  as  one. 

It  is  a  most  interesting  plant.  It  grows  as  a  slender  t\vining 
vine  on  low  bushes  in  the  edges  of  thickets.  It  produces  pale 
blue  flowers  in  racemes  along  the  upper  ]3art  of  the  stem, 
followed  by  small,  beanlike  pods.  It  de- 
velops also  scattered,  colorless,  self-fertil- 
zing  flowers  on  short  branches  at  the  sur- 
face of  the  soil.  These  are  very  fertile. 
They  push  into  the  soil  and  ])roduce  there 
mosth'  one-seeded,  roundish,  fleshy  pods 
about  half  an  inch  in  diameter.  These 
are  the  hog  i)eanuts. 


Fig.  3.">.  A  portion  of  a  vine  of  the 
hog  peanut,  bearing  both  flowers  and 
seed  pods. 


Fig.  3G.  The  root 
and  the  under- 
ground "nuts"'  of 
the  hog  peanut. 


THE  EDIBLE  WILD  ROOTS  OF  THE  FARM  63 

So,  if  we  go  out  to  examine  the  plants  producing  nature's 
root  crops,  we  shall  find  them  a  mixed  lot  of  solanums, 
legumes,  aroids,  etc.,  growing  in  all  kinds  of  situations,  wet 
and  dry,  in  sun  and  in  shade,  and  producing  food  reserves 
that  have  little  in  common  either  in  character  or  in  content. 

Study  7.     Wild  Root  Crops  of  the  Farm 

This  study  will  consist  in  an  examination  of  the  edible 
and  the  poisonous  roots  found  growing  wild  on  the  farm. 
Such  exotics  as  parsnip,  carrot  and  chicory  will  oe  found 
growing  as  weeds  in  the  field.  The  native  root  crops  will 
have  to  be  sought  in  the  woods  and  thickets  and  in  swampy 
places. 

The  equipment  needed  will  be  a  knife,  a  bag  and  a  stout 
digging  tool  of  some  sort. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  trip  to  selected  places 
where  the  wild  roots  may  be  found  in  abundance,  the  examina- 
tion of  them  one  by  one  as  to  all  their  parts,  measuring  of  the 
roots,  slicing  of  them,  tasting  of  them,  testing  of  them,  etc., 
and  recording  their  characters. 

The  record  will  consist  of : 

1.  A  table  prepared  with  headings  as  indicated  on  pages 
64  and  65  and  carefully  filled  out  for  about  a  dozen  species. 

2 .  Simple  sectional  diagrams  representing  the  structure  of 
(i)  some  wild  tuber;  (2)  a  scaly  bulb;  (3)  a  soHd  bulb  or 
corm;    (4)  a  fleshy  rhizome;  and  (5)  a  true  fleshy  root. 


Fig.  37.     Apios  Tuberosa.     (Drawn  by  C.  P.  Alexander) 


64 


EDIBLE   WILD   ROOTS 


NAME 


Kind  of  Plant' 


Grow* 
Where 


Nature 
"Root 


'Tree,  shrub,  herb  vine  etc    aquatic,  climbing,  etc. 
'Root,  tuber,  bulb,  corm,  rhizome,  oflfset,  etc. 


65 


OF  THE   FARM 


Fonn^  and 

Size4 


Qualities 


Uses 


Remarks 


Diagram. 


Length  X  width  in  mm. 


x'lii.    Till-:  xoviCMiuoR  si-:i:o-cRc)P 


"  ' lis  all  a  myth  that  Autumn  grieves 
For,  list  the  'ciud  among  the  sheaves; 
Far  sweeter  than  the  breath  of  May." 

— Samuel   M.  Peck   (Aulumti-  Mirth). 

November,  in  our  latitude,  is  nature's  season  of  plenty. 
Her  work  of  cro])  ])roduction  is  done.  Living  is  cjusy  for  all 
her  creatures.  The  ini]irovident  may  ha\'c  their  choice  of 
fruits,  or  may  eat  only  of  the  seeds  that  are  best  liked  and 
most  easily  gathered.  The  frugal  and  foresighted  may 
gather  winter  stores.  It  was  no  mere  arbitrar}^  impulse  of 
our  Puritan  pioneers  that  settled  upon  November  as  the 
season  of  special  Thanksgiving. 

Nature's  prodigality  of  seed  production  is  for  the  benefit  of 
her  animal  population.  She  gives  them  the  excess.  They  in 
their  tiun  are  ven'  wasteful  in  their  handling  of  the  seed. 
They  never  eat  all  that  they  gather,  but  scatter  and  lose  some 
of  it  in  places  favorable  for  growth  next  season.  Thus  they 
aid  in  distributing  and  in  planting  the  seed.  The  sleek  and 
surfeited  meadow  mice  scatter  grains  along  their  nmways 
and  never  find  them  again,  and  these  lost  seeds  are  favorabl\' 
situated  for  growth  at  the  proper  season.  It  is  only  a 
remnant  of  them  that  ^^ill  escape  the  more  careful  search 
of  the  beasts  when  the  hunger  of  the  lean  season  is  on,  but  so 
great  is  the  excess  of  production,  that  this  remnant  is,  in  the 
nice  balance  of  nature,  sufficient  to  keep  the  species  going. 

It  is  a  long,  lean  season  that  follows  on  November  in  our 
latitude,  and  the  seed-crop,  though  abundant,  is  not  sufficient 
to  feed  all  the  wild  animal  population.  So  nature  takes 
various  measures  to  eke  it  out.  She  puts  to  sleep  in  hiberna- 
tion the  great  majority'  of  animals.     These  include  nearly  all 

66 


THE  NOVEMBER  SEED-CROP 


67 


of  the  lesser  animals  and  a  few  even  of  the  larger  ones,  like 
the  woodchuck,  now  fat  and  drowsy.  She  removes  the  greater 
number  of  the  birds  by  migration  to  feed  in  siimmer  climes. 
There  remain  to  be  fed  through  the  winter  onl}^  a  small  pro- 
portion of  the  birds  and  a  larger  proportion  of  the  miammals, 
including  ourselves.  All  these  are  by  nature  improvident — 
given  to  eating  to  excess  when  there  is  plenty,  forgetting 
future  needs.  So,  she  makes  it  impossible  that  any  lusty 
foragers,  or  all  of  them  put  together,  shall  be  able  to  dissipate 
and  waste  her  patrimony.  She  keeps  it  in  a  considerable  part 
from  them  against  the  hour  of  need.  If  she  grows  luscious 
fruits  which,  when  ripe,  will  fall  into  their  mouths  she,  also 
grows  roots  underground,  and  imposes  the  labor  of  digging  to 
get  them.  If  some  of  her  seeds  ripen  all  at  once  and  fall 
readily,  others  ripen  at  intervals,  and  are  held  tightly  in  their 
husks.  It  takes  labor  to  get  them.  The  animals  that  eat  in 
winter  have  to  work  their  way. 

Nature's  population  is  suited  to  her 
products.  Her  seed-eating  rodents 
are  all  armed  with  stout  chisellike 
teeth,  adapted  for  cutting  anything, 
from  the  nutshells  to  chaff.  Her  seed- 
eating  birds  are  armed  with  stout, 
seed-cracking,  husk-opening  beaks. 
Her  little  birds  are  agile,  and  can 
cling  with  their  feet  to  swaying  twigs, 
and  ravage  the  loaded  seed-cones 
pendent  upon  them.  The  beaks  of 
the  crossbills  are  especially  adapted  to 
extracting  the  seeds  from  the  cones  of 
our  evergreen  trees. 
The  seeds  we  cultivate  for  food  are  cereals  and  lentils. 
With  the  exception  of  maize  they  came  with  our  ancestors 
from  other  climes.     Some  of  the  native  cereals  have  heavier 


Fig.  38.  Specialized  seed- 
handling  apparatus:  c, 
the  teeth  of  a  porcupine ; 

b,  the  beak   of  a  finch; 

c,  the  beak  of  a  cross- 
bill ,  adapted  for  extract- 
ing the  seeds  of  pine 
cones. 


68  XATL'RAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

seeds,  but  we  have  not  learned  their  cuUurc.  We  have  been 
satisfied  \\'iththe  grains  and  pulse  of  our  agricultural  tradition. 
Wild  rice  is  marketed  locally  at  fancy  prices;  but  it  is  still 
wild  rice,  gathered  where  nature  produces  it  in  the  old  way. 
There  is  no  culture  of  it  worthy  of  the  name. 

The  cereals  are  mainly  the  edible  seeds  of  grasses  {Crami- 
neae):  the  seeds  of  sedges  (Cypcraceae) ,  if  edible,  should 
perhaps  be  included;  and  there  is  one  seed  of  very  difTcrent 
botanical  character,  the  buckwheat,  a  member  of  the  joint- 
weed  family  (Polygonaceae),  commonly  rated  a  cereal.  We 
can  find  wild  seeds  of  all  these  groups  growing  about  us,  some 
of  them  of  good  size  and  quality,  but  most  of  them  far  too 
small  to  be  of  possible  value  to  us.  The  lentils  are  all  mem- 
bers of  the  pulse  family  (Legnminosae),  and  their  more  or 
less  beanlike  seeds  grow  in  two-valved  pods.  A  few  sorts  of 
these  protein-rich  seeds  will  be  found  hanging  in  autumn.  So 
great  is  the  diversity  according  to  climate,  situation,  and 
locality,  that  it  is  not  possible  to  indicate  what  sorts  of  seeds 
are  to  be  expected. 

Besides  the  cereals  and  lentils  there  are  other  wild  seeds, 
allied  to  those  we  cultivate,  for  minor  uses :  for  their  flavors, 
for  the  oils  they  contain,  for  their  medicinal  properties,  etc. 
And  there  are  many  others  that  arc  of  interest  to  us  solely  on 
account  of  the  ver>^  special  ways  in  which  they  contribute  to 
the  preservation  of  the  species,  by  providing  for  their  own 
dispersal .  Some  are  armed  w4th  hooks  or  barbs  that  catch  in 
the  wool  of  animals  (as  indeed  they  do  also  in  our  own  cloth- 
ing), and  thus  they  steal  a  ride,  which  may  end  in  some  new 
and  unoccupied  locality.  These  grow  at  low  elevations — not 
higher  than  the  backs  of  the  larger  quadrupeds.  Some  light- 
weight seeds  develop  soaring  hairs,  which  catch  the  wind  and 
by  it  are  carried  about.  Some  of  the  larger  dry  seeds  of  trees 
develop  parachutes  by  means  of  which  they  are  able  to  glide 
to  a  considerable  distance  from  the  i)lace  in  which  thc>'  grow. 


THE  NOVEMBER  SEED-CROP 


69 


Pig.  39.  Two  "seeds" 
that  often  steal  a 
ride  with  us:  a, 
sweet  cicely  {Osmo- 
rhiza);  b,  pitchforks 
{Bidens). 


Some  take  a  ride  by  water,  and  to  aid  their 
navigation,  develop  water-repellant  seed- 
coats,  boat-shaped  forms,  corky  floats,  etc. 
Finally,  some  develop  automatic  ejectors 
like  the  capsules  of  the  touch-me-not  or 
jewel-weed,  which  collapse  with  explosive 
violence;  or  like  the  close-pinching  hulls 
of  witch-hazel,  which  shoot  out  the  seeds 
to  a  distance  of  several  yards.  But  most 
seeds  are  featureless,  as  regards  means  of 
dispersal.  They  merely  fall,  singly  or  in 
clusters,  and  are  moved  about  only  with  the  chance 
removal  of  the  soil  with  which  they  mix. 

Among  the  curious  devices  for  securing  the  aid  of  amimals 
in  seed-distribution  none  are  more  curious  and  interesting 
than  those  shown  by  the  common  imibelwort  knowm  as 
sweet  cicely.  The  seeds  (in  their  containers)  are  suspended 
in  pairs  at  the  end  of  two  slender  stalks,  their  sharp  points 
directed  downward,  close  to  the  stem.  There  are  blunter 
points  directed  outward,  but  the  barbs  all  over  the  surface 
appear  to  be  directed  the  wrong  way,  as  if  to  prevent  getting 
caught  in  wool.  But  when  a  furry  coat  pushes  against 
the  outer  end  of  a  pair  of  these  seeds,  the  blunt  ends  aided 
by  the  opposing  barbs  catch  just  deeply  enough  to  turn  the 
seeds  end  for  end:  in  such  position  the  long  points  enter 
deeply,  the  barbs  hold  securely  and  the  attachment  at  the 
tip  of  the  slender  stalks  is  readily  broken.  This  device  need^ 
but  to  be  seen  in  use  to  be  appreciated. 

Of  wild  seeds  there  is  no  end.  It  should  be  the  object  of 
the  following  study  to  survey  a  small  area  to  find  the  wild 
allies  of  our  cultivated  seed  crops,  to  observe  the  differences 
in  size  and  containers,  and,  form  the  means  of  dispersal  of 
as  many  as  possible  of  the  others. 


70  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 

Note: — In  this  book  we  speak  of  seeds  not  in  the  botanical  sense 
of  the  term,  but  in  the  sense  of  it  as  used  by  the  seedsman,  and  as 
understood  by  the  general  public.  What  we  call  seeds  may,  therefore, 
be  true  seeds  (ripened  ovules)  like  beans,  or  dry  fruits  (ripened  pistils) 
like  pitchforks  (fig,  39),  or  dry  fruits  in  their  husks  like  oats. 

Study  8.  The  November  Seed-Crop 
The  program  of  this  study  will  cover  the  exploration  of  a 
small  area  well  overgrown  with  herbage.  The  variety  of 
forms  found  will  be  greater  if  diverse  situations,  wet  and  dry, 
in  sun  and  in  shade,  are  included.  Collect  seeds  of  all  kinds 
as  encountered  (omitting  fleshy  fruits  and  nuts),  and  note 
what  sort  of  plant  produces  each  kind.  It  will  be  well  to 
take  specimens  of  the  seeds  in  their  containers  for  closer 
examination  at  home. 

The  apparatus  needed,  besides  knife  and  lens,  will  be  a 
supply  of  envelopes,  large  and  small,  to  hold  the  specimens 
collected,  with  names  and  data. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of  annotated  and  illus- 
trated lists  of  the  seeds  examined,  arranged  under  as  many 
categories  as  desired,  such  as:  Cereals,  Lentils,  Seeds  with 
hairs  for  air-drifting,  etc.  Let  the  list  include  such  data  as, 
kind  of  plant,  size  of  seed  (give  measurements  in  millimeters : 
if  very  small,  lay  enough  seeds,  in  line  and  touching  each 
other,  upon  a  metric  rule — such  as  Fig.  i  on  p.  12 — to  reach 
one  centimeter,  and  divide  for  average  diameter),  characters 
affecting  dispersal,  characters  of  hull  affecting  its  release, 
animals  observed  to  feed  upon  it  or  to  live  within  it,  etc. 
Let  the  illustrations  be  simple  outline  sketches.  As  to 
names,  if  you  do  not  know  them,  save  time  by  asking  an 
instructor  or  someone  who  does  know  them. 


IX.     THE  DECIDUOUS  TREES  IN  WINTER 

"Yet  lower  bows  the  storm.  The  leafless  trees 
Lash  their  lithe  limbs,  and  with  majestic  voice 
Call  to  each  other  through  the  deepening  gloom.'' 

— ^J.  G.  Holland  {Bitter-sweet). 

Largest  of  living  things,  and  longest  of  life  are  the  trees. 
They  have  dominated  the  life  of  the  greater  part  of  the 
habitable  earth  by  the  sheer  vigor  of  their  growth.  They 
have  gone  far  toward  raaking  the  world  a  fit  place  for  us  to 
live  in.  Our  ancestors  were  woodsmen.  The  forests  pro- 
vided them  homes  and  shelter  and  food.  The  plants  we  now 
raise  in  fields,  and  the  animals  we  keep  in  stock  pens,  they 
found  growing  or  running  wild  in  and  about  the  borders  of 
the  woods.  The  pioneers  of  oiu*  race  in  America  were 
woodsmen.  When  they  entered  the  states  of  the  upper 
Mississippi  Valley,  they  passed  by  the  rich  prairies  and 
settled  in  the  less  fertile  lands  of  the  wooded  hills.  They 
wanted  fuel  and  shelter  and  water.  They  sought  for  trees 
and  springs:  finding  these,  they  trusted  to  find  with  them 
all  else  needful  for  a  living. 

The  trees  themselves  contributed  largely  of  the  materials 
needed  for  the  beginnings  of  human  culture.  A  club  for  a 
weapon,  a  sharpened  stick  for  an  instrument  of  tillage,  a 
hollowed  log  for  a  boat,  and  a  sheet  of  bark  for  a  roof — these 
were  among  the  earliest  of  the  agencies  employed  by  man  in 
mollifying  and  bettering  his  environment.  It  is  a  far  cry 
from  these  few  crude  tree  products  to  the  ntunberless  manu- 
factured products  of  the  present  day.  Our  need  of  tree 
products  has  multiplied  inordinately,  but  our  ways  of  getting 
these  have  become  circuitous.  When  an  implement  or  a 
utensil  of  wood  is  placed  in  our  hand,  all  shaped  and  polished 
and  varnished,  we  scarcely  think  of  the  trees  as  its  source. 

71 


72 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


The  trees  have  not  changed,  but  our  relations  wnth  them  have 
become  remote.  Let  us  renew  acquaintance  with  a  few  at 
least  of  those  that  are  native  to  our  soil.  Let  us  go  out  and 
stand  among  them,  and  feel,  as  our  ancestors  felt,  their  vigor, 
their  majestic  stature  and  their  venerable  age.  To  the 
ancients  they  stood  as  s>inbols  of  strength,  of  longevity,  and 
of  peace.  Our  poets  love  to  celebrate  the  grace  of  the  birch, 
the  beauty  of  the  beech,  the  lofty  bearing  of  the  pine  and  the 
rugged  strength  of  the  oak. 

In  ^^^nter,  when  the  boughs  are  bare  and  stand  out  sharply 
against  the  background  of  the  sky.  the  structural  character- 
istics that  best  distin- 
guish tree  species  are 
most  readily  seen.  The 
forking  and  the  taper 
and  the  grou]3ing  of  the 
branches,  the  size  and 
stoutness  and  position 
of  the  twigs,  that  are 
obscured  b}'  simimer 
foliage,  are  now  evident.  By  noting  such  characters  as  these 
we  may  learn  to  recognize  the  trees.  The  woodsman,  who 
learns  them  unconsciously,  knows  them  as  wholes,  and 
knows  them  without  analysis  by  the  complex  of  characters 
thoy  present.  But  most  of  us  will  have  to  make  their 
acquaintance  by  careful  comparison  of  their  characters 
separately.     A  few  suggestions  to  that  end  here  follow. 

There  arc  a  few  deciduous  trees  that  arc  instantly  recogniz- 
able in  winter  by  their  color.  Such  are  the  white  birch  and 
the  sycamore.  The  former  is  pure  white  on  the  trunk  and 
larger  branches :  the  latter  is  flecked  with  greenish  white  an 
the  boughs,  where  the  outer  bark  is  shed  in  patches.  The 
light  satiny  gray  of  the  smooth  beech  trunks,  and  the  mat 
gray  of  the  rough  white  oak  trunks,  also  help,  although  less 


Fig.  40.  Diag^ram  illustrating  the  characteristics 
of  form  in  some  common  trees:  o,  Lombardy 
poplar;  b.  white  birch;  c,  sugar  maple;  d. 
apple;  e,  American  elm. 


THE  DECIDUOUS  TREES  IN  WINTER 


73 


distinctive  to  an  unpracticed  eye.  Then  there  are  tints  of 
yellow  in  the  twigs  of  certain  willows,  and  of  red  in  the  twigs 
of  the  red  maple  and  in  the  swollen  buds  of  the  linden. 

Trees  grown  in  the  open  develop  a  characteristic  form  and 
are  recognizable  by  their  general  outline.  Most  strict  and 
cylindric  is  the  Lombardy  poplar;  most  inclined  and  spread 
out  upward  into  vaselike  form  is  the  beautiful  and  stately 
American  elm.  Most  smoothly  oval  is  the  sugar  maple  and 
most  nearly  hemispherical  is  the  apple.  The  soft  maple  and 
the  hickories  and  many  others  take  on  an  irregular 
and  ragged  outline.  It  is  to  be  noted  at  once  that  in  their 
youth  these  trees  are  all  much  more  alike  in 
form;  also,  that  in  the  forest,  close  crowding 
reduces  every  kind  of  tree  to  a  tall  and 
slender  trunk  holding  aloft  as  a  crown  the 
few  branches  that  have  been  able  to  reach 
the  light. 

Much  more  dependable  recognition  char- 
acters are  found  in  the  structure  of  the  tree- 
top.  The  trunk  may  tend  to  form  a  single 
axis  as  in  the  birch,  or  to  split  up  early 
into  long  main  branches  as  in  the  elms.  The 
boughs  may  be  short  and  stocky  as  in  an  old 
chestnut,  or  long  and  slender  as  in  a  beech. 
The  twigs  may  be  long  or  short  stout  or  slen- 
der, and  in  position  ascending,  horizontal,  or 
drooping.  The  bark  may  present  many 
characteristic  differences  on  trunk  and  bough 
and  twigs,  all  of  which  need  to  be  seen  to 
be  appreciated.  But  most  positive  of  all 
the  structtiral  differences  by  which  we  may 
distinguish  trees  are  some  of  the  lesser 
characters  in  bud  and  leaf  scar,  a  few  of 
which  are  indicated  in  figure  41.     The  size 


d 


Fig.  41.  Dia- 
gram of  forms 
of  leaf  scar, 
and  of  grouping 
of  bundle  scars 
on  twigs  of:  a, 
catalpa;&, black 
ash;  c,  horse 
chestnut ;  d, 
mockernut  hic- 
kory; e,  black 
walnut. 


74 


RECOGNITION   CHAI^VCTERS  OF 


Growth 
Habit 

Bark  (mature) 

NAME 

Color 

Fissures* 

Surface 
Layers' 

Dianj.» 

Oiik.  White 

Oak.  Red 

Tlickon'" 

Chestnut 

Butternut 

Beech 

Birch' 

Maple' 

Elm" 

Ash' 

Basswood 

Sycamore 

TuHji  Tree 

7^ 

1^ 

'  Vertical  or  horizontal,  simple  or  forking,  deep  or  shallow,  narrow  ur  wide,  etc. 
'  Hard  or  soft,  adherent  or  loose,  shedding  in  strips  or  in  bits,  etc. 
3  Smallest  diameter  of  an  average  twig  in  mm. 
'Specify  which  kind. 
j^  Another  kind  of  tree  of  your  own  selection. 


DECIDUOUS   TREES   IN  WINTER 


75 


Twigs 


Misc. 


Buds 


Color 


Form 


Arrange- 
ment* 


Leaf  Scars  ^ 


Other   Peculiarities* 


*  Peculiarities  of  form  and  color,  lenticels,  pith,  etc. 
5  Sketch  in  simple  outline. 
^  Opposite  or  alternate. 

^  Diagram,  including  tiindle  scars  and  stipule  scars. 

^  Taste  and  smell,  persistent  leaves,  nuts,  fruit,  stalks,  etc.;  also,  flower,  buds, 
etc.  for  next  season. 


76  NATURAL   HISTORY   OF  THE   FARM 

and  structure  and  color  of  the  i^ith  will  often  furnish  good 
characters. 

One  who  is  learnin<^  them  should  eniplo}-  his  senses  of 
touch,  taste  and  smell  as  well  as  his  sight.  The  toughness 
and  pliancy  of  hickory  tu-igs  are  revealed  to  our  fingers.  By 
biting  t^\^gs,  distinctive  flavors  may  be  discerned  in  most 
t%\'igs.  Tulip  tree  is  bitter,  and  sweet  birch  is  deliciously 
aromatic.  The  buds  of  linden  are  mucilaginous  when 
chewed.  The  twigs  of  walnut  and  sassafras  ha\'e  a  smell  that 
is  instantly  recognizable.  There  is  no  difficulty  at  all  about 
knowing  the  principal  kinds  of  trees  if  one  will  take  the 
trouble  to  note  their  characteristics. 

Study  9.     Recognition  Characters  of  Deciduous  Trees  in 

Winter 

The  object  of  this  study  is  to  learn  to  recognize  a  dozen  or 
more  common  native  trees.  The  apparatus  needed  by  the 
student  is  only  a  lens  and  a  knife :  collective  use  may  per- 
haps be  made  of  an  axe  or  a  hooked  pole. 

The  program  of  work  should  consist  of  a  short  excursion 
among  the  trees,  first  where  gro^^dng  in  the  open,  to  observe 
their  outlines,  and  later,  into  the  woods.  The  species 
selected  for  examination  will  be  studied  as  to  the  characters 
indicated  by  the  column  headings  of  the  table  on  pages  74 
and  75. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in: 

1.  The  completed  tabulation. 

2 .  Simple  outline  sketches  of  twigs : 

(a)  Of  ash  and  birch  or  elm. 

(b)  Longitudinal  sections  of  walnut  or  butternut 

(c)  Cross  sections  of  oak  and  linden. 


X.     THE  FARM  WOOD-LOT 

Much  can  they  praise  the  trees  so  straight  and 

The  sailing  pine;    the  cedar  proud  and  tall; 

The  vine-prop  elm;  the  poplar  never  dry; 

The  builder  oak,  sole  king  of  forests  all; 

The  aspen  good  for  staves;   the  cypress  funeral; 

The  laurel,  meed  of  mighty  conquerors 

And  poets  sage;   the  fir  that  weepeth  still; 

The  willow,  worn  of  forlorn  paramours; 

The  yew,  obedient  to  the  bender's  will; 

The  birch  for  shafts;    the  sallow  for  the  mill; 

The  myrrh  siveet-bleeding  in  the  bitter  ivound; 

The  warlike  beech;  the  ash  for  nothing  ill; 

The  fruitful  olive;    and  the  platane  round; 

The  carver  holme;   the  maple,  seldom  inward  sound. 

— Spenser  (Faery  Queen). 

When  we  know  the  trees  by  sight,  then  we  may  profit  by 
an  inquiry  as  to  what  kind  of  associations  they  form  with  one 
another.  The  farm  wood-lot  will  be  a  good  place  for  this, 
especially  if  it  be,  as  it  usually  is,  a  remnant  of  the  original 
forest  cover.  We  will  assume  a  small  piece  of  wildwood  not 
too  closely  or  too  recently  cut  over,  with  small  areas,  at  least, 
of  forest  cover,  and  with  a  goodly  remnant  of  brushwood. 
There  are  openings  even  in  primeval  forest,  where  giant  trees 
have  fallen,  letting  in  a  flood  of  light.  In  such  places  the 
trees  of  the  undergrowth  lift  their  heads  and  bushes  flourish 
for  a  few  years,  rearing  a  generation  and  sending  forth  their 
seeds  before  a  new  growth  of  trees  of  the  forest  cover  over- 
takes and  overtops  them.  All  about  the  borders  of  the 
wood-lot  will  be  found  such  a  growth  of  lesser  trees  and 
shrubs,  massed  against  the  Hght,  and  backed  up  against  the 
wall  of  the  forest. 

Within  the  wood,  where  the  larger  trees  are  growing  closely, 
their  crowns  touching  each  other,  there  will  be  found  but  a 
scanty  growth  beneath  them  of  spindling  small  trees  and  of 
straggling  shrubs.     These  will  often  show  a  fairly   distinct 

77 


78  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

stratification  of  their  crowns  at  two  levels,  \\itli  scattering 
low  shrubs  nearer  to  the  ^ound.  This  is  the  way  in  which, 
left  to  themselves,  each  "finds  its  level"  and  its  proper 
situation.  T(X)  much  interference  of  the  axe  may  keep  down 
some  of  them  and  may  make  unusual  opportunities  for 
others;  but  it  does  not  change  the  nature  or  needs  of  any 
of  them. 

The  <^ou]jini,'s  of  the  trees  of  dilTerent  kinds  will  l)e  seen 
to  diftcr  ob\'iousl\-,  according  to  their  several  modes  of 
reproduction.  Copses  of  young  trees,  clustered  about  old 
ones,  will  be  found  s])rinp:ing  up  as  "suckers"  from  the 
spreading  roots  of  beech  and  choke-cherry  and  nanny-berr}'. 
Thickets  composed  of  a  mixture  of  tree-species  spring  up  as 
seedlings  in  the  j^lace  where  a  giant  of  the  woods  has  fallen, 
lea\-ing  a  good  site  temj^orarily  unoccupied.  In  such  a  place 
the  struggle  for  existence  is  apt  to  be  severe.  Groui)s  of  a 
few  trees  on  a  common  root  result  from  the  gro\\'th  of  s]Drouts 
from  stumps.  vSome  trees,  like  the  chestnut,  when  cut  will 
come  again  unfailingh',  and  replanting  is  unnecessary  for 
their  maintenance.  Others,  like  the  white  pine,  rarely  sprout 
from  the  base  when  cut  dowii,  and  are  renewed  only  from 
seed.  Most  trees  sprout  more  freely  if  cut  (or  bunted) 
\\'hen  \-oung.  Dozens  of  sprouts  will  promptly  sj^ring  from 
a  healthy  stump  of  oak  or  elm,  but  only  a  few  of  them — 
two  or  three  or  four  as  a  rule — can  grow  to  full  stature: 
the  others  are  gTaduall\'  clintinated  in  the  competition  for 
light  and  standing  roont.  The  changes  in  comj^osition  of 
the  wood-lot  that  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  ax  are  not  so  great 
as  one  would  at  first  suppose;  for  nature,  if  unhindered  b>' 
fires  or  by  grazing,  has  her  ownt  wa>'S  of  keei)ing  a  ])lace  for 
each  of  her  wild  species. 

Let  us  study  the  wood-lot  first  to  sec  what  nature  is  trying 
to  do  with  it,  and  to  find  out  what  kinds  of  woody  plants  she 
is  endeavoring  to  maintain  there.     There  will  be  tiTiie  enough 


THE  FARM  WOOD-LOT  79 

later  to  find  out  which  of  them  are  the  best  producers  of 
fuels,  posts  and  timbers,  and  which  are  the  "weed  species." 

Study  10.     An  Examination  of  the  Farm  Wood-Lot 

This  study  presupposes  sufficient  acquaintance  with  the 
superficial  characters  of  trees,  so  that  the  principal  kinds 
may  readily  be  recognized.  A  small  piece  of  woodland  not 
more  than  a  few  acres  in  extent,  with  both  forest  cover  and 
brushwood  undergrowth  remaining,  should  be  mapped  out 
and  the  map  subdivided  into  a  number  of  plots.  The 
boundaries  of  the  lot  and  of  its  subdivisions  should  be  plainly 
marked  out.  The  accompanying  diagram  indicates  such 
preparation  for  a  wood-lot  study  made  on  the  Cornell  Univer- 
sity farm.  There,  the  boundaries  of  the  plots  were  made 
plain  b}^  white  twine  strung  across  the  area  at  shoulder  height. 
The  tools  needed  will  be  a  lens  and  a  pocketknife. 

The  program  of  this  study  will  consist  in  a  slow  trip  over 
the  wood-lot,  and  a  careful  examination  of  its  population  of 
woody  plants : 

1 .  To  see  what  they  are. 

2.  To  see  their  relative  abundance,    (and) 

3 .  To  see  what  relations  they  bear  to  one  another  in  the 
adjustment  of  the  place. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in : 

1 .  An  annotated  list  of  all  the  woody  plants  present,  ^vith 
notes  on  their  size,  relative  abundance,  and  manner  and  place 
of  growth. 

2 .  Indications  on  the  map  of  the  dominant  kinds  of  trees 
and  shrubs  in  each  plat. 

3.  A  diagram  of  a  vertical  section  of  the  forest  cover  (in 
some  place  to  be  designated  by  the  instructor)  showing  a  few 
characteristic  plants  of  the  several  foliage  strata  present. 


o 

G^ 

^ 

O 
•J3  o 

Q 

n 

•  tj 

n 

-  o  .. 

fc^ 

^ 

5^3 

§1 

eg- 

§    g    U) 

a  c  o 

II 

o  3 

u 

X 
(J 

rite  directly  u 
few  of  the  corr 
d  in  it,  in  thrt 

Trees  of  the  f 
.  Trees  of  the 
I.  Shrubs. 

^^^ 

t-H  »— 1  (— < 

^  o 

O'H 

k^ 


Fig.  42.     A  simple  outline  map  with  instructions  for  use  in  this  study. 


XI.     THE   FUEL-WOODS   OF   THE   FARM 

"We  piled  with  care  our  nightly  stack 
Of  wood  against  the  chimney  back, — 
The  oaken  log,  green,  huge^  a7id  thick, 
And  on  its  top  the  stout  hack-stick; 
The  knotty  fore-stick  laid  apart 
A  nd  filled  between  with  curious  art 
The  ragged  brush;   then  hovering  near 
We  watched  the  first  red  blaze  appear, 
Heard  the  sharp  crackle,  caught  the  gleam 
On  whitewashed  wall  and  sagging  beam, 
Until  the  old  rude-fashioned  room 
Burst  flower-like  into  rosy  bloom/* 

— Whittier  {Snow  -  Bound') . 

One  of  the  first  of  the  resources  of  nature  to  be  brought  into 
human  service  was  fire.  Lightning  and  other  causes  set  wild 
fires  going,  and  the  savage  following  in  their  wake,  found  that 
they  had  done  certain  useful  work  for  him.  They  had  cut 
pieces  of  timber  into  lengths  and  shapes  that  were  convenient 
to  his  hand.  They  had  roasted  wild  roots  and  green  fruits, 
and  the  flesh  of  wild  animals  overtaken,  and  had  made  them 
much  more  palatable.  They  had  left  piles  of  glowing  embers 
beside  which  on  a  chill  day  he  warmed  himself.  So  he  took  a 
hint  from  nature,  added  a  few  sticks  to  the  live  embers,  and 
kept  the  fire  going.  Strange  that  no  other  animal  has  done 
this  simple  thing!  Afterwards  he  found  out  how  to  start  a 
fire  by  rubbing  wooden  sticks,  later  by  striking  flint  on  steel, 
and  still  later  by  friction  matches.  The  wonder  of  the  savage 
has  become  commonplace. 

Since  cooking  began,  the  word  fireside  has  been  synony- 
mous with  home.  Fire  has  been  the  indispensable  agent  of 
many  comforts,  and  womankind  have  been  the  keepers  of  it. 
The  wild  wood  has  furnished  the  fuel.  In  the  wood  there  is 
great  variety  of  it :  fine  tmgs  and  coarse,  and  bark  and  splin- 
ters, all  ready  for  use ;   and  dead  trees  down,  and  green  trees 

8i 


82 


NATURAL  HISTORY    OF    THE   FARM 


Standing,  needing  cutting.  Fire  was  the  cutting  agent  first 
em])loycd.  Trees  were  burned  down  by  building  fires  about 
their  bases,  and  then  by  similar  process  they  were  cut  in 
sections.  It  was  only  for  long-keeping  fires  that  such  fuel 
was  needed:  there  was  always  excess  of  kindling-stufifs 
available  for  making  quick  fires. 

All  wood  will  bum  aiid  give  forth  heat,  but  one  who  knows 
woods  \\411  not  use  all  kinds:     it  is  only  the  degenerate 


''^'*'^  4 

*i>.i^^%^         ^ 


^m^^m^i 


^^..^^^:,7~  wcr  ■  ■_  ^ :  -  ifrF%-  -  "^ • 


Fig.    1. 5.     Western  yellow  pine  dismantled  and  ignited  by  lightning  (U.  S. 
Bureau  of  Forestry). 

modem,  who  will  do  that  -who  will  go  to  the  tclei)hone  and 
order  a  cord  of  wood  \Nathout  further  specifications.  Heavy, 
close-grained,  hard  woods  as  a  rule  bum  more  slowly  and 
yield  more  heat  thiin  the  lighter,  more  oi)en-textured  soft 
woods.  Combustible  resins  vary  the  rate  of  burning,  and  the 
amount  of  heat  ])roduced:  but  the  greatest  differences  in 
burning  qualities  are  due  to  the  amount  of  water  present.  A 
punky  old  log  that  when  dry  will  bum  like  tinder,  will  soak  up 
water  like  a  sponge  and,  becoming  "water-logged,"  will  not 


FUEL-WOODS  OF  THE  FARM  83 

burn  at  all.  The  modem  householder,  who  keeps  his  fuels 
under  cover,  can  get  along  without  knowing  about  woods, 
much  that  it  was  essential  the  savage  should  know. 

Building  a  camp  fire  in  the  rain  is  a  task  that  takes  one  back 
again  to  the  point  where  he  needs  to  know  wood  fuels  as 
nature  furnishes  them.  Certain  trees,  like  the  yellow  birch, 
produce  the  needed  kindling  material.  Strip  the  loose 
"curl"  from  the  outside  bark,  resin-filled  and  waterproof; 
shake  the  adherent  water  from  it,  and  you  can  ignite  it  with  a 
match.  Go  to  the  birch  also  or  to  the  hemlock  for  dry 
kindling  wood:  the  dead  branches  remaining  on  the  trunks 
make  the  best  of  fagots,  and  are  enclosed  in  waterproof  bark. 
Splinter  them  and  put  them  on  the  hot  flame  from  the 
"birch  curl",  increase  their  size  as  the  heat  rises,  and  soon  you 
have  a  fire  that  will  defy  a  moderate  rain.  If  you  want  to 
get  much  heat  out  of  a  little  fire,  feed  it  with  thick  strips  of 
resinous  hemlock  bark,  or  with  pine  knots. 

These  are  special  materials,  the  presence  of  which  often 
determines  camp  sites ;  though  excellent,  they  are  not  essen- 
tial. Any  ready-burning  dry  wood  may  be  kindled  if  splin- 
tered fine  enough.  Skill  in  fire-raaking  consists  not  alone  in 
the  selection  of  suitable  materials.  They  must  be  gradually 
increased  in  size  as  the  heat  increases,  but  not  fed  larger  than 
can  be  quickly  brought  to  the  igniting  point.  Air  must  be 
admitted  to  combustion  as  well  as  wood;  and  as  the  heated 
air  rises,  the  sticks  must  be  so  placed  as  to  admit  fresh  air 
freely  below.  It  is  easy  to  smother  a  nascent  fire.  The 
sticks  must  be  so  placed  that  as  the  centers  are  burned,  the 
remaining  portions  will  be  fed  automatically  into  the  coals. 
It  is  easy  to  so  pile  the  fuel  that  a  big  central  flame  will  be 
quickly  followed  by  a  black  hollow  central  cavity,  walled  in 
by  excellent  but  unavailable  fuel.  A  well  built  fire  does  not 
suffer  sudden  relapses.  The  qualities  of  a  good  fire  are: 
(i)  a  rapid  increase  to  the  desired  size,  and  (2)  steady  burning 
(with  no  great  excess  of  heat)  thereafter. 


84 


NATURAL   HISTORY  OF    THK    FARM 


Dan  Beard's  famous 
caiiip-fire  of  four  pine 
knots  illustrates  well 
the  principles  of  fire 
niakinj:^.  Each  knot  is 
cleft  in  tapering  shav- 
ings, which,  ignited  at 
their     tips,     gradually 

Fig.  M.  D;in  Beards  famous  fire  of  four  pine  inr*rf»acp  in  ci-z/^  nc  fhn. 
knr.ts:  a.  the  preparation  of  one  of  the  knots;  mcrcase  Ul  SlZC  aS  tnc 
b.  the  placing  and  igniting  of  them.  ^j.^     j.^^^^      ^^^^^      ^^^^ 

and  the  heat  increases.  They  are  set  with  thick  ends 
upward  and  bases  outspread,  admitting  air  freely  below. 
They  are  leaned  against  one  another,  and  as  the}^  bum, 
they  automatically  come  closer  together. 

The  "top-fire"  of  the  Adirondack  woodsmen  illustrates 
excellently  a  long-keeping  fire,  that  is  based  on  a  discriminat- 
ing knowledge  of  fuel  values.  Figure  45a,  illustrates  its  con- 
struction at  the  start.  Two  water-logged  chunks  of  hemlock 
that  will  not  bum  out,  scr\'e  as  "andirons"  to  hold  up  the 
sides  and  insure  a  con- 
tinuous air  supply 
from  below.  A  smooth 
platfonn  of  freshly  cut 
yellow  birch  poles  is  laid 
upon  these.  The  yellow 
birch,  even  when  green, 
has  good  fire-keeping 
qualities.  Hickory 
would  scn^e  the  pur- 
pose. An  ordinar}-  fire 
is  then  built  upon  the 
top  of  the  birch   plat- 

fomiby  means  of  kind-  pic.  4.-5.  a  woodsman's  long-kceping  "top-fire" 
linrr      nnri       fntrotc       nnri         a.  bcKinninR;   b.  well  under  way  and  ready  for 

ung    ana    lagots     ana      the  roiling  on  of  the  side  logs. 


FUEL-WOODS  OF  THE  FARM  85 

rungs.  As  live  coals  form,  the  birch  poles  are  burned 
through  in  the  middle  and  fall  in  the  midst  of  the  coals 
and  keep  on  burning.  The  extension  of  the  fire  outward 
is  promoted  by  the  upward  inclination  of  their  ends.  A 
fire  of  this  sort,  properly  begun,  will  continue  to  bum  steadily 
through  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  without  excess  of  heat 
at  the  beginning,  and  without  any  further  attention. 

A  woodsman  knows  there  are  certain  fuels  that  bium  well 
enough  but  must  be  avoided  in  camp:  hemlock,  for 
example,  whose  confined  combustion-gases  explode  noisily, 
throwing  live  coals  in  all  directions.  One  does  not  want  his 
blankets  btimed  full  of  holes.  And  even  the  householder 
who  sits  by  his  fireplace  should  know  that  there  are  woods 
like  hickory  and  sassafras  that  burn  with  the  fragrance  of 
incense;  woods  like  sumach  that  crackle  and  sing;  woods 
like  knotty  pitch  pine  that  flare  and  sputter  and  run  low, 
and  give  off  flames  with  tints  as  variable  and  as  delightful  as 
their  shapes  are  fantastic.  One  who  has  burned  knots 
observantly,  will  never  order  from  his  fuel-dealer  for  an  open 
fire  "clear  straight-grained  wood,"  even  though  he  have  to 
split  it  himself. 

It  has  been  the  wasteful  American  way  to  pile  and  bum  the 
tree-tops  in  the  woods  for  riddanceof  them,  and  then  to  split 
kindling  at  home .  With  a  wood  famine  at  hand  we  ought  to  be 
less  wasteful.  Half  the  wood  produced  by  a  tree  is  in  its 
branches.  Some  trees  hold  their  branches  long  after  they  are 
killed  by  overhead  shading.  Others,  with  less  resistant  bark, 
drop  them  early  and  in  an  advanced  stage  of  decay.  Fagots 
gathered  in  the  forest  are,  therefore,  quite  as  different  in  their 
buming  qualities  as  is  the  wood  of  the  trunks.  It  should  be 
the  object  of  the  following  study  to  leam  at  first  hand  what 
these  differences  are. 


86  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Study  11.      Fuel-woods  of  the  Farm 

The  work  of  this  study  should  be  conducted  in  the  wood-lot 
or  in  a  bit  of  native  forest,  where  there  is  a  great  variety  of 
woody  plants,  big  and  little,  living  and  dead.  There  should 
be  found  a  few  trees  fallen  and  rotting;  a  few,  broken  by 
stonns  or  shattered  by  lightning;  some,  diseased  by  fungi  or 
eaten  by  beetles  or  ants;  dead  snags,  tunneled  by  wood- 
peckers; old  boles  tattooed  by  sa]3suckers;  sprouting 
stumps;  and  scattered  weaklings  smothered  by  lustier  com- 
petitors— in  short,  the  usual  wildwood  mixture  of  sorts  and 
conditions. 

The  tools  needed  will  be  a  pocket  knife  and  a  hatchet  or  a 
brick-hammer  to  split  and  splinter  ^^'ith.  The  modem  con- 
venience of  matches  will  be  allowed  to  all.  A  few  axes  and 
cross-cut  saws  may  be  taken  for  common  use.  To  save  the 
axes  from  certain  abuse,  chopping  blocks  should  be  provided 
in  advance. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of:  (i)  a  gathering  of 
fuel  stuffs  from  the  wood-lot;  and  (2)  a  testing  of  them  in 
fire-making. 

I.  The  w^ood-lot  should  first  be  explored  for  fire-making 
materials.  Quick-kindling  stuff  will  be  wanted  chiefly  for 
this  brief  exercise.  These  are  of  several  categories;  (a)  "dead 
and  down"  stuffs  in  the  woods,  the  result  of  nature's  ])runing 
and  thinning.  Nature  has  placed  good  fire-making  materials 
handy.  As  you  collect,  observe  what  kinds  of  trees  hold  their 
dead  branches  longest  and  prescr^'c  them  inost  free  from 
decay.  If  there  are  shattered  trunks  within  reach,  knock  off 
the  shattered  ends  and  try  them  for  kindling.  Compare 
splintering  with  cho]:)])ing  as  a  means  of  i)rei:)aring  kindling- 
stuff  from  dry  softwood. 

(b)  Resinous  stuffs,  such  as  the  "curl"  of  the  outer  bark  of 
the  yellow  birch,  the  bark  stri])s  from  hemlock  and  other 
conifers,  pine  knots  from  rotted  logs,  etc.     These  will  be  the 


FUEL- WOODS  OF  THE  FARM  87 

more  needed  in  the  rain.  If  there  be  many  kinds  of  materials 
available,  some  sort  of  division  of  labor  may  be  arranged  for 
the  collecting  of  it. 

2.  The  materials  gathered  should  be  carried  out  to  an 
open  space  on  the  lee  side  of  the  woods,  and  tried  out  in  fire- 
making.  Let  the  fires  be  so  arranged  as  to  secure  a  minimum 
of  inconvenience  from  smoke.  Each  student  should  make  a 
small  fire  (not  over  18  inches  in  diameter),  using  one  kind  of 
material  only.  Let  those  more  experienced  at  fire-making 
try  more  difficult  materials — say  green  elm,  for  a  climax.  Let 
each  effort  result  in  a  fire  and  not  a  sraudge :  it  should  catch 
quickly  and  bum  up  steadily  and  clearly  with  little  smoke. 
To    this    end     materials    /, 

should  be  selected  of  proper    fazttCZT^^ — ^ "~V 

kind    and   proper  size   for 

J       .        ..  •  J.    1,  Fig.  46.     A  simple  rack  of  bent  wire  suit- 

ready  IgmtlOn,   must    De    so         able  for  the  block-testing  outlined  in  this 

arranged  as   to   admit    air      ^^"^  ^^' 

below,  must  "feed"  inward  as  the    center  biuns  out  and 

must  not  be  increased  in  size  faster  than  the  increasing  heat 

warrants. 

With  the  individual  fires  biuning  steadily,  let  observations 
be  made  on  the  readiness  of  ignition  of  other  woods,  green  and 
dead,  wet  and  dry,  sound  and  punk.  Different  kinds  of  bark 
will  show  interesting  differences  in  readiness  of  ignition. 

Demonstrations :  At  a  common  fire  of  larger  size  a  nimi- 
ber  of  demonstrations  may  be  made. 

1.  The  long-burning  qualities  of  different  kinds  of  wood 
may  be  roughly  shown  by  placing  pieces  cut  to  like  size  and 
form  on  a  wire  rack  such  as  is  shown  in  figure  46,  setting 
the  rack  upon  a  broad  uniform  bed  of  coals,  and  noting  the 
time  at  which  each  piece  is  completely  consimied. 

2 .  The  fire-holding  qualities  of  the  same  kinds  of  wood  may 
be  shown  by  like  treatment  of  a  similar  lot  up  to  the  point  of 
their  complete  ignition — then  removing  them  from  the  fire 


88 


XATL'RAL   HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 


^:^.-a 


n  I,  2,  and  3  to  bum  out.  With  the 
apparatus  shown  in  figure  47  any- 
one can  start  a  fire  by  friction  of  one 


and  timing   the  disappearance    first 
of  flame,  and  then  of  red  glow. 

3.  The  burning  quality  of  the 
same  kind  of  wood  in  diff"erent  con- 
ditions, green  and  dead,  sapwood 
and  heartwood;  dead  wood  wet  and 
dn,',  sound  and  ])unk;  pieces  from 
knot  and  from  straight-grained  por- 
tions,    etc.,    mav    be    tested   as   in 

Fig.    47.       Rubbing  sticks   for  , 

firc-n.aking:     a.  drill-socket,    paragraph    I. 
to  which  pressure  is  applied  .         .  i        i  r 

with  the  left  hand  (a  pine       4.     Anacnt  mcthods  ot  startmg  a 

knot  with  a  shallow  hole  in     ^  ,        ,  ,  ,         ,        . 

it  will  do  for  this);  b.  the  lire  may  bc  demonstrated  m  thc  mtcr- 

drill,  an  octagonal  hardwood  ,  ,   .,  .    .  r        ^^  •  ■% 

stick  about  fifteen  inches  Vals  WhllC  WaitUlg  lOr  thC  piCCCS  USCQ 
long;  the  top  should  work 
smoothly  in  the  drill  socket; 
c,  inelastic  bow  for  rotating 
drill.  It  is  moved  horizont- 
ally back  and  forth  with  the 
right  hand;  its  cord,  <f ,  is  a 
leather    thong    with   enough        .  -  ^  ,  , 

slack  to  tightly  encircle  the  piccc  01  wooQ  upon  anothcr  and  care- 
drill  once;    e,  fire  board   of     .    ,,  .  ^       n  1    •  1 

dr>-  balsam  fir.  or  of  cotton-  lully  nursuig  thc  iirst  rcsultmg  Spark. 

wood   root .  or  even  of  bass-    _,, .  -  ,  ,       .      ,  , 

wood.     Obser\'e   how  the  Tlmt  and  stccl  and  tmdcr  inay  also 

notches   are    cut   with    sides    ,  .      . 

flaring  downward;  a  little  pit     DC  tncd. 

to  receive  the  point    of    the  „  .  .  .... 

fire  drill  is  at  the  apex  of       5.     bomc  mtcrcstmg   peculiantics 

each    one;     /    is   a    used-out        .  .  ,  -  - 

notch;  2  is  yet  in  use;  j  is  a  oi  ccrtam  woods  mav  bc  sho^^^l  at  a 

new      unused      notch.      The  ^ 

rotating  of  the  drill  with  common  Tire: 

pressure  from  above  rubs  off  ,    ^  _,  -  .  ,  , 

a  brownish   wood   powder       (a)      Bv    havmg     grccu     chumcs 

which      falls      beneath      the    ,  .  '  -,,..,. 

notch  and  smokes,  and  then,    blUTLing    at     OnC     CUd,    tllC    liqUldS     lU 
with  gentle  fanning,  ignites.       ,  ,  ,  -  .    .,  , 

A  dr>'  piece  of  punk  should  thc   wood    may    bc    made    visible. 

be  placed  beneath  the  notch     /-,  1  -n  1  i 

to  catch  it,  and  some  fine  Grecn  clm  Will  cxudc  watcr  at  thc 

tinder     (such     as     may     be  ,  -  -  1  -n      r        1 

readily     made     by    scraping    OthCr     Cnd ;        TCd     maplC     Will      trotll  j 
fine,  dry  cedar  wood)  should    ,   .    ,  .,,  ,  -.      .        , 

be  added  to  catch  the  first  hickory  Will  cxudc  a  vciy  Imiited 
quantity  of  delicious  "hickory  honey. ' ' 

(b)  By  burning  pieces  of  chestnut,  sumach,  etc.,  the  crack- 
ling of  woods  may  be  demonstrated;  also  the  ember- throw- 
ing habit  of  hemlock.  A  shower  of  sparks  may  be  had  by 
throwing  on  green  and  leafy  boughs  of  hemlock  and  balsam. 


FUEL-WOODS  OF  THE  FARM  89 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in : 

1.  An  annotated  list  of  the  kindling  woods  foiind,  with 
notes  on  their  occurrence,  natural  characters,  and  burning 
qualities.  Names,  if  needed,  will  be  furnished  by  instruc- 
tors. 

2.  A  sketch  showing  your  own  preferred  construction  of  a 
fire,  with  pieces  properly  graded  in  size  for  ready  ignition,  and 
properly  placed  for  admission  of  air. 

3 .  A  brief  statement  of  the  results  of  the  demonstrations 
made  at  the  common  fire. 


XII.     WINTER  \ERDURE  UF  TUK   l-ARM 

"The  damsel  donned  her  kirtle  sheen; 
The  hall  vas  dressed  'uilh  holly  green; 
Forth  to  the  wood  did  merry-men  go 
To  gather  in  the  mistletoe." 

— Walter  Scott  (Marmion). 

In  winter  when  the  fields  arc  bro^\Tl,  the  pastures  deserted, 
the  birds  flo\\Ti,  and  the  deciduous  trees  stark  as  though  dead, 
the  evergreens  preserve  for  us  the  chief  signs  of  life  in  the 
out-of-doors.  They  mollify  the  bleakness  of  the  landscape. 
So  we  cover  wdth  them  the  bleakest  slopes,  we  line  them  up 
for  windbreaks,  and  we  plant  them  cosily  about  our  homes. 

Nature  has  used  the  larger  coniferous  evergreens  on  a 
grand  scale,  covering  vast  areas  of  the  earth  with  them  and 
developing  a  whole  population  to  dwell  among  them.  Two 
species  of  pine  have  been  among  the  most  important  of  our 
countr>''s  natural  resources:  the  white  pine  at  the  North 
and  the  pitch  pine  at  the  South;  and  these  two  have  con- 
ditioned the  settlement  of  the  regions  in  which  they  occur. 
Both  have  been  ruthlessly  sacrificed,  and  we  have  but  a 
poor  and  shabby  remnant  of  them  left.  At  the  North  the 
white  pine  was  cut  first;  then  the  spruce,  and  then  the  hem- 
lock. This  was  the  order  of  their  usefulness  to  us.  Old 
fences  made  of  enduring  pine  stumps  surround  fields  where 
there  arc  no  living  pine  trees  to  be  seen,  bearing  silent  testi- 
mony to  their  size  and  their  aforetime  abundance. 

Our  evergreens,  broadly  considered,  fall  into  two  groups  of 
very  different  character.  These  are  the  narrow-leaved 
evergreens  (the  leaves  we  call  "needles"),  mostly  conifers, 
and  the  broad-leaved  evergreens.  The  former  are  mostly 
trees  of  the  forest  cover;  the  latter  are  mostly  underlings. 
The  former  are  mostly  valuable  timber  trees ;  the  latter  have 
little  practical  importance.     The  former  are  plants  of  an 

90 


WINTER  VERDURE  OF  THE  FARM  91 

archaic  type  that  bear  naked  seeds  in  cones  and  have  incon- 
spicuous flowers.  The  latter  are  of  more  recent  origin  and 
have  mostly  very  showy  flowers.  So  great  are  these  differen- 
ces that  we  may  better  consider  the  two  groups  separately. 

The  larger  conifers  all  have  one  habit  of  growth:  they 
shoot  upward  straight  as  an  arrow.  Most  of  them  have  their 
branches  arranged  in  whorls  about  the  slender  tapering  trunk, 
and  extended  horizontally.  Thus,  under  their  winter 
burden  of  ice  and  snow,  they  may  bend  down  uninjured  until 
they  rest  on  branches  below,  or  on  the  ground.  Given  plenty 
of  room,  the  pines  grow  in  ragged  outlines;  the  spruces, 
hemlock  and  balsam  are  beautifully  tapering  and  conical ;  the 
arborvitas  and  the  taller  cedars  approach  cylindric  form.  In 
color  the  white  pine  is  the  darkest  green;  the  pitch  pine  is 
yellowish  green.  The  balsams  and  certain  spruces  and 
cedars  have  a  bluish  cast.  Arborvitae  is  a  chameleon,  that 
changes  its  color  with  the  season,  being  rather  dull  and  un- 
attractive in  midwinter,  but  making  up  for  it  by  the  liveliness 
of  its  tints  a  little  later.  In  texture  the  pines  are  loosest, 
their  long  needles  being  arranged  in  bundles.  The  balsams 
and  spruces  have  a  sleek,  furry  aspect.  The  hemlock  is  soft 
and  fine:  indeed,  of  all  foliage  masses,  there  are  none  more 
beautiful  than  those  of  well-grown  hemlock.  And  the 
closest  textures  of  all  are  wrought  out  of  the  minute,  close-laid 
leaves  of  the  cedars  and  the  arborvitse.  The  red  cedar  is  not 
among  the  largest  of  the  conifers,  but  it  is  a  valuable  one, 
because  of  the  fine  aromatic  fragrance  and  the  enduring 
quality  of  its  wood.  The  yews  and  the  junipers  are  the 
underlings  of  this  group:  they  are  low,  sprawling  shrubs 
that  grow  on  the  forest  floor  in  the  shade,  or  on  stony  and 
barren  slopes. 

This  exceedingly  important  group  of  trees  furnishes  us 
with  a  great  variety  of  products:  timber,  fuel,  tannin,  tur- 
pentine, rosin,  etc. ;  but  it  furnished  the  red  man  with  many 


92  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

additional,  not  the  least  important  of  which  was  cordage. 
The  Indian  made  binding  thongs  from  the  tough  roots  of 
hemlock,  cedar  and  yew. 

Our  broad-leaved  evergreens  are  mostly  low  shrul)s,  and 
trailing  ground-cover  herbs.  One  of  the  finest  of  them,  in  the 
freshness  of  its  \\4nter  greenen'  and  in  beauty  of  its  summer 
flowers,  is  the  mountain  laurel.  In  the  woods  on  the  ground 
there  are  climips  of  evergreen  fcnis,  and  partridge  berry  and 
wintergrecn,  and  tufts  of  perennial  mosses,  and  considerable 
areas  are  often  overspread  with  the  bright  and  shining  ver- 
dure of  the  blue  m\Ttle,  or,  in  dr\^  places,  with  the  gray -green 
of  the  moss-pink.  Many  of  our  scattered  herbs  like  alum- 
root and  vnld  strawberry  remain  green  over  winter  if  not  too 
much  exposed.  E\'cn  the  grasses  of  our  lawns  remain  green, 
wdth  a  little  protection. 


Study  12.     Evergreens  of  the  Farm 

An  examination  of  all  the  commoner  and  more  interesting 
evergreens  of  the  farm,  with  a  ^dew  to  learning  their  earmarks, 
is  the  object  of  this  study.  The  apparatus  needed  will  be  a 
lens  and  a  pocket  knife. 

The  program  of  the  work  will  include  a  tri]3  about  the  lawns 
where  specimen  trees  grown  in  the  open  ma>'  be  found,*  and 
a  visit  to  the  woods  to  see  the  evergreens  of  the  forest  cover 
and  the  forest  floor.  The  species  are  to  be  examined  care- 
fully, one  by  one,  and  their  salient  characters  noted.  The 
conifers  are  to  be  written  up  in  a  table  prepared  ^^'ith  headings 
as  indicated  on  pages  94  and  95.  The  more  heterogeneous 
broad-leaved  evergreens  are  to  be  listed,  \nth  brief  notes  as 
to  their  characters  and  habits. 

*Often  the  most  available  living  collection  of  evergreens  will  be 
found  in  a  neighboring  cemetcr>'  or  park. 


WINTER  VERDURE  OF  THE  FARM  93 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  in : 

1.  The  table  of  conifers  above  mentioned  filled  out  so  far 
as  data  are  available. 

2.  An  annotated  list  of  the  broad-leaved  evergreens,  with 
notes  on  size,  growth-habits,  situation  preferred,  character  of 
foliage,  etc. 


94 


RECOGNITION  CHARACTERS  01 


NAME 


Growth 
Habit' 


Kind  of 
Barlf 


Sizc^" 


Porm- 


'  Diagram. 

'Note  color,  content,  manner  of  shedding,  etc. 

^Length  X  width  in  mm. 

■•Cylindric.  flat,  keeled,  grooved,  etc. 


EVERGREEN  TREES  AND  SHRUBS 


95 


Fruit 


Position^ 


Arrangement^ 


Kind^ 


Form^ 


Miscellaneous 


5  Appressed  or  divergent,  etc. 

^Solitary  or  in  bundles:    if  solitary,  are  they  opposite  or  alternate,  2-ranked 
scattered :  if  in  bundles,  how  many  leaves  per  bundle. 
^  Cone,  berry,  drupe,  etc. 
^  Diagram  of  distinctive  features. 


XIII.     Till-:  WILD  MAMMALS  oF  THH  FARM 

"I'm  truly  sorry  man's  dominion 
Has  broken  Nature's  social  union, 
An'  justifies  that  ill  opinion, 

Which  fnakcs  thee  startle. 
At  me,  thy  poor  earth-horn  companion 
An'  fellcnc-mortal! 
— Robert  Burns  (To  a  mouse,  on  turning  her  up  in  her  nest  with  the  plough), 

Aborij^nal  society  in  America  was  largely  based  on  the 
native  wild  beasts.  The\'  were  more  essential  to  the  red 
man  than  our  flocks  and  herds  are  to  us.  His  dejiendence 
upon  them  was  inore  direct  and  absolute.  They  furnished 
him  food  and  clothing  and  shelter  and  tools.  His  clothing 
was  made  of  skins;  his  eating  and  drinking  vessels  were  of 
horn  and  hide  and  bone.  His  knife  was  a  beaver  tooth. 
Sinews,  teeth,  hair,  hide,  hoofs,  intestines  and  bones 
all  ser^'cd  him.  Out  of  them  he  got  hammers  and  wedges 
and  drills  and  scrapers  and  clamps ;  threads  and  thongs  and 
boxes  and  bags;  tools  and  supplies  for  all  purposes.  He 
made  textiles  of  hair  and  of  quills,  and  in  them  wrought  the 
expression  of  his  esthetic  ideals. 

The  Indian  was  conquered  and  dri^•cn  out  in  part  b}'  direct 
assault,  but  in  a  far  larger  part  by  the  destruction  of  his 
resources  in  furs  and  game.  Lx)sing  these,  he  became 
de])endcnt.  Anned  resistance  by  the  eastern  Indians  ceased 
with  the  passing  of  the  beaver;  b>'  the  Plains  Indians,  with 
the  passing  of  the  buffalo. 

The  earliest  white  settlements  in  America  were  su]:)ported 
mainly  by  himting  and  trajjping  and  the  sale  of  furs.  Mis- 
sionary zeal  and  desire  for  extension  of  empire  ])romoted  the 
founding  of  colonies,  but  peltries  provided  the  necessary 
revenues  for  their  maintenance.  The  fur  trade  was  inti- 
mately associated  with  our  early  colonial  development  and 

y6  ■ 


THE  WILD   MAMMALS   OF  THE   FARM  97 

even  with  early  social  affairs  and  military  enterprises.  The 
beaver  and  the  badger  and  the  wolverine  and  the  bison  rightly 
occupy  a  place  on  the  seals  of  certain  of  onr  states. 

These  fine  quadrupeds,  once  so  abundant,  are  gone  from 
our  settled  country.  Save  for  a  remnant,  preserved  in 
reservations,  largely  as  a  result  of  private  enterprise,  the 
bison  is  entirely  gone.  The  others  are  crowded  to  the  far 
northern  frontier.  We  have  fur-bearers  still,  and  also  a  fur 
trade:  indeed,  more  money  is  spent  for  furs  nowadays  than 
ever  before  in  the  country's  history.  But  oiu"  fiu:s  are  now 
derived  from  animals  which  but  a  generation  ago  were  mainly 
considered  hardly  worth  skinning.  The  four  native  mammals 
which  now  chiefly  supply  the  market  are,  in  their  respective 
order,  muskrat,  skunk,  opossum  and  raccoon,  with  the  mink 
still  furnishing  a  lesser  proportion  of  much  more  valuable 
skins.  These  are  obtained  in  considerable  numbers  from  all 
parts  of  the  country  still,  but  the  getting  of  them  is  no  longer 
a  man's  work.  It  is  rather  the  recreation  of  the  enterprising 
farm  boy. 

The  white  man  brought  with  him  to  America  all  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  mammals  that  he  now  uses.  He  found  none 
domesticated  here.  The  Indian  was  a  hunter,  not  a 
husbandman.  The  white  man  was  a  more  ruthless  hunter, 
equipped  with  better  weapons.  The  Indian  would  no  more 
kill  off  all  the  beaver  and  otter  on  his  range,  than  the  stock- 
man would  dispose  of  all  his  herd.  He  kept  a  portion  to 
breed  and  renew  the  supply.  But  the  white  man,  having  his 
domesticated  animals  to  fall  back  on,  slaughtered  the  wild 
ones  ruthlessly  without  regard  for  the  future.  Indeed,  the 
wantonness  of  the  slaughter  of  some  of  them — notably  of  the 
bison — is  a  disgraceful  chapter  in  our  country's  history. 

The  mammals  that  are  of  great  importance  to  man  fall  in 
three  groups:  hoofed  animals,  beasts  of  prey  and  rodents. 
There  were  some  fine  native  hoofed  animals  in  North  America. 


98 


NATURAL  HISTORY    OF   TIUv  FARM 


Besides  the  bison,  "noblest  of  /Yincrican  quadrupeds."  there 
were  deer  and  elk  and  moose,  of  wide  distribution;  in  the 
Rockies  were  mountain  sheep  and  goats;  and  in  their  foot- 
hills, the  graceful  pronghom.  Of  these,  the  red  deer  remains 
where  given  protection ;  indeed,  though  ne\'er  domesticated, 
it  seems  to  thri\'e  on  the  borders  of 
civilization.  Recently  in  New  Eng- 
land, fanners  have  had  to  kill  ofT  wild 
deer  in  order  to  save  their  crops. 

Of  the  beasts  of  prey,  all  the  lar- 
ger species,  bears  and  j^umas  and 
lynxes  and  wolves,  have  been  killed 
or  dri\'cn  out ;  and  probably  most  of 
us  would  be  well  enough  satisfied  to 
have  all  those  that  remain,  confined 
in  zoological  i:)arks.  Foxes  linger  in 
the  larger  wooded  tracts.  Skunks 
are  probably  more  abundant  tlian  in 
primeval  times ;  for  there  is  more  food 
available  and  they  are  not  hunted 
very  eagerly  by  most  of  us.  Minks 
and  weasels  and  raccoons  haunt  the 
swamps  and  marshes,  and  being  both  small  and  alert,  main- 
tain themselves  very  well. 

The  rodents  have  fared  better  under  agricultiu-al  conditions 
than  the  two  preceding  groups.  The  destruction  of  the  beasts 
of  prey  remo\'cd  their  m(^st  dangerous  natural  enemies,  and 
the  gro\\4ng  of  crops  in  the  fields  increased  tlicir  available 
food.  It  is  altogether  ]:)n)bable,  therefore,  that  where  s])ecial 
measures  are  not  taken  by  man  to  destroy  them,  such  rodents 
as  the  woodchucks,  gophers,  meadow  mice  and  rabbits  are 
more  abundant  now  than  in  primeval  times.  At  any 
rate,  we  can,  by  taking  proper  measiu-es,  find  plenty  of 
them. 


Fig.  48.     A  pronghom  buck. 


THE  WILD   MAMMALS  OF   THE  FARM  99 

Then  there  are  a  few  Httle  insect-eating  mammals,  like  the 
moles  and  the  shrews  in  their  burrows  in  the  soil,  and  the  bats 
in  the  air,  that  perhaps  are  not  greatly  affected  by  the 
changed  conditions.  Southward,  there  is  the  interesting 
marsupial,  the  opossimi,  nocturnal,  wary  and  elusive,  holding 
its  own. 

The  group  of  mammals  includes  those  animals  that  are 
most  like  us  in  structure  and  habits  and  mode  of  develop- 
ment. Among  them  are  otir  best  servants,  our  best  pro- 
ducers of  bodily  comforts,  our  most  direct  competitors  and 
our  most  dangerous  enemies.  We  have  gathered  the  more 
docile  of  those  useful  to  us  about  our  homes,  and  have  made 
them  otir  more  immediate  servants.  We  have  exploited  their 
untamable  allies  to  the  limit  of  our  powers.  So  long  as  there 
remained  a  toothsome  body  or  a  prized  pelt,  we  spared  not. 
Our  enemies  and  competitors  we  killed.  At  first  it  was  done 
in  self-defense :  of  late,  it  has  been  done  in  sheer  and  wanton 
love  of  slaughter.  Improved  weapons  of  destruction  have 
placed  the  larger  beasts  completely  at  our  mercy,  and  we  have 
had  no  mercy.  There  remain  with  us  one  that  we  avoid,  a 
few  that  are  too  small  to  be  deemed  worthy  of  pursuit,  and  a 
few  that  are  able  to  elude  us.  At  our  approach  the  squirrels 
hide  from  us  in  the  trees;  the  gophers  and  their  kind  drop 
into  their  burrows,  the  swamp-dwellers  slip  into  the  water, 
and  the  wily  foxes  watch  us  from  the  thickets.  Eternal 
vigilance  is  the  price  of  their  safety.  We  may  see  little  of 
them  when  we  walk  in  the  woods  or  by  the  streamside,  but 
there  are  many  pairs  of  sharp  little  eyes  always  watching  us. 

Before  the  final  disappearance  of  the  larger  species,  it  is 
well  that  we  are  taking  measiu^es  to  keep  a  remnant  of  them  . 
in  game  preserves :  our  descendants  will  want  to  know  what 
the  native  fauna  of  their  native  land  was  like.  We  do  weU, 
also,  to  consider  that  each  species  we  destroy  is  a  final  product 
of  the  evolution  of  the  ages.     It  is  the  outcome  of  the  toil  and 


lOO  NATURAL   IIISToRV    OF    Till-:    FARM 

pains  of  countless  generations;     and  when  once  sw^-pt  away 
it  can  never  be  recovered. 

By  the  care  of  our  flocks  we  lia\e  become  more  s\-mpathelic 
towards  tame  animals.  By  taking  thought  for  the  welfare 
of  the  remnant  of  our  wild  animals,  we  shall  become  more 
S}inpalhelic  toward  them,  more  a])])reciative  of  their  fine 
powers  and  their  esthetic  walues.  \\^e  shall  become  more 
civilized;  for,  as  the  late  Professor  Shaler  assured  us,  "The 
sense  of  duty  which  master\'  of  the  earth  gives,  is  to  be  one 
of  the  moral  gifts  of  modern  learning." 

Study  13.  The  Wild  Mammals  of  the  Farm 
Tliis  study  includes  a  little  trapping  expedition,  and  some 
examination  of  ca])turcd  wild  animals  and  obser\'ations  of 
their  haunts  and  habits.  The  tools  needed  will  be  pocket 
knives,  an  individual  su]:)ply  of  small  mouse  traps  and  bait 
(rolled  oats  will  do  for  bait) ,  and  some  cord  and  fine  wire  for 
snares.  Since  members  of  the  class  will  be  able  to  cai:>ture 
only  a  few  of  the  over-abundant  little  rodents,  others  should 
be  available  in  captivity.  Woodchucks,  chij^munks,  etc., 
may  be  kept  buried  in  a  box  in  hibernation,  if  obtained  in 
auttmm.  Raccoons,  opossums,  etc.,  may  be  purchased  from 
dealers.  They  may  often  be  borrowed  from  ])ersons  in  the 
neighborhood  who  keep  them  as  pets. 
The  program  of  work  will  consist  of : 

I.  A  trip  along  some  meadow  fence-row  and  al>out  the 
grassy  borders  of  a  wood,  taking  up  a  line  of  trai)s  (that  should 
have  been  set  the  day  before  and  marked  as  to  location), 
removing  the  catch  and  again  baiting  them.  The\'  should  be 
set  in  the  runwa\'S  of  meadc  )W  inice,  wood  mice,  shrews,  moles, 
etc.  Little  "Zip"  traps,  or  others  of  the  guillotine  t\'pe,  are 
lightest  and  chca])est  (three  cents  or  less  apiece  in  quantities), 
and  are  quite  eflicient.  They  are  baited  by  S])rinkling  some 
flakes  of  oats  about  the  trigger.     They  are  best  covered  by  a 


THE  WILD   MAMMALS  OF  THE   FARM 


lOI 


sheltering  piece  of  bark  or  a  flat  stone,  supported  an  inch  or 
more,  allowing  easy  access.  A  few  snares  of  the  simple  sort 
illustrated  in  fig.  49  (or  of  some 
better  sort  known  to  any  member 
of  the  class)  may  be  set  in  the 
briar  patch  in  the  runways  of  rab- 
bits or  in  the  mouths  of  their  bur- 
rows. 

2.  Such  animals  as  the  traps 
contain,  together  with  such  others 
as  are  provided,  living  or  dead  or 
represented  by  tanned  skins,  are  to 
be  compared  and  their  characters 
are  to  be  written  in  a  table  pre- 
pared with  headings  as  indicated 
on  pages  102  and  103.  Fill  out  the 
table  in  full,  but  distinguish  in  it 
between  original  observations  and 
borrowed  data. 

The  record  of  this  study  will 
consist  in: 

I.  The  completed  table,  as  indi- 
cated above. 

2.     A  map  of  the  fami,  with  the  location  of  typical  haunts 
of  the  different  species  studied  indicated  upon  it. 


Fig.  49.  Spring  pole  and  snare: 
A,  its  setting;  the  pole  is  a 
lithe  sapling,  trimmed  and 
bent,  its  top  held  down 
by  a  line,  /,  attached  to  a 
trigger  in  a  hole  in  the  post,^. 
Fast  to  the  line  is  the  slip- 
noose,  n  (most  quickly  made 
of  small  annealed  brass  wire), 
which  is  set  across  the  rab- 
bit's path  in  such  a  position 
that  the  rabbit  will  push  his 
head  through  it  when  reach- 
ing the  bait,  B.  T  illustrates 
how  the  trigger  t  is  set  ma 
^  inch  hole  in  the  post.  The 
slightest  movement  of  the 
bait-stick  rolls  the  ball,  re- 
leases the  line,  ^  and  liberates 
the  pole  to  draw  the  noose. 


I02 


THE  WILD  MAMMALS 


1 

Weight 

Length 

Color  and  Markings* 

NAME 

Body 

Tail 

1.  Woodchuck 

2.  Chipmunk 

3.  Red  squirrel 

4.   Deer  mouse 

■ 

5.  Meadow  mouse 

1 
1 

6.  Short-tailed  shrew 

7.  Mole 

8.  Skunk 

9.  Mink 

10.  Wen  sol 

11.  Raccoon 

12.     Bat 

I 


In  brief. 


I03 


OF  THE  FARM 


Fur 


Quality*       Market  Price 


Feeding  Habits* 


Economy^ 


Miscellaneous 


"  How  does  it  affect  our  interests. 


XrV.     THE    nOMCSTrCATF.D    MAMMALS    OF 
THE    I- ARM 

"One  of  the  best  features  of  agricultural  life  consists  in  the  great  amount 
of  care-taking  which  it  imposes  upon  its  follmcers.  lite  ordinary  farmer 
has  to  enter  into  more  or  less  sympathetic  relations  with  half  a  score  of 
animal  species  and  many  kinds  of  plants.  1 1  is  life,  indeed,  is  dex^oted  to 
ceaseless  friendly  relations  with  these  creatures,  which  live  or  die  at  his  will. 
In  this  task  ancient  savage  impulses  are  slowly  worn  away  and  in  their 
place  comes  the  enduring  kindliness  of  cultivated  men.  .  .  To  this 
perhaps  more  than  to  any  other  one  cause,  we  must  attribute  the  civilizable 
and  the  civilized  state  of  mind.'' 

— Shaler  iDomesticaUd  Animals,  p.  222). 

Our  chief  needs  in  life  are  things  to  cat,  tilings  to  wear,  and 
things  to  have  fun  wath.  Our  marrunaJian  allies  pro\ade  all 
these  things  to  a  remarkable  degree.  Agriculture  tends  to 
increase  the  things  that  minister  to  our  bodily  comforts;  but 
it  is  probable  that  animals  were  first  domesticated  to  serve 
the  needs  of  our  minds;  for  the  first  animal  to  be  domesti- 
cated appears  to  have  been  the  dog,  and  he,  to  funiish,  not 
food,  nor  raiment,  but  companionship.  The  dog  was  docile 
and  friendly  and  cheerful  and  in  every  way  responsive  to  his 
master's  moods.  His  mind  was  of  a  singularly  human-like 
quahty.  He  could  interpret  his  master's  commands,  and  was 
eager  to  obey  them.  He  could  appreciate  praise  or  blame. 
He  could  profit  by  instruction;  and  he  lent  to  primitive  man 
the  inestimable  aid  of  his  shar]^  teeth,  his  s\nft  feet,  his  keen 
ears  and  nose,  and,  above  all,  his  courage  and  his  fealty.  He 
shared  his  master's  hovel  and  ate  of  the  leavings  from  his 
table  until  he  came  to  prefer  his  master's  society  to  that  of  his 
own  kind,  staying  \vith  him  through  poverty  and  want,  often 
indeed,  in  the  face  of  penury  and  abuse.  He  became  a  will- 
ing slave,  and  the  "completest  conquest  man  has  made  in 
all  the  animal  kingdom. ' '  In  all  this  he  was  a  companion  and 
a.  helper.      Rarely  among  the  tribes  of   men  has  the  dog 

104 


DOMESTICATED    MAMMALS   OP   THE    FARM        105 

been  considered  a  source  of  food  supply,  except  in  times 
of  famine. 

And  our  dealings  with  the  other  domesticated  beasts,  that 
nowadays  seem  so  utilitarian,  were  not  in  the  beginning  so 
Yevy  different.  It  is  probable  that  the  first  of  them  to  be 
brought  into  human  association  were  captured  young  and 
kept  at  home  as  pets.  The  desire  of  their  captors  was 
probably  not  to  eat  them,  nor  to  wear  their  skins,  but  to  see 
more  of  their  interesting  ways.  The  frisking  calf  or  colt  or 
lamb  was  a  new  playmate  for  the  children  of  the  household. 
So,  all  sorts  of  wild  animals  are  gathered  about  the  homes  of 
primitive  people  everywhere,  even  today.  So,  they  are 
played  with;  and  tamed,  and  such  as  prove  harmless  and 
docile  are  allowed  increasing  liberty  about  the  place.  There 
are  few  of  them  indeed,  that,  when  free  and  full  y  grown,  will 
not  desert  the  homes  of  their  captors  for  their  native  wilds. 
Some  such  have  been  found  in  times  long  past,  and  from  these 
have  descended  our  domesticated  animals.  Doubtless  the  sav- 
age youth  who  first  captured  a  few  wild  calves,  and  tamed  and 
reared  and  bred  them  and  started  a  herd,  little  realized  the 
far-reaching  influence  of  his  venture  upon  the  development  of 
human  civilization. 

In  attaching  the  more  useful  wild  animals  to  his  home, 
savage  man  attached  himself  there.  It  became  easier  to 
raise  food  and  clothing  than  to  get  them  by  the  uncertainties 
of  the  chase.  As  a  keeper  of  flocks  and  herds  his  substance 
increased ;  his  living  became  better  assured ;  his  sympathies 
and  interests  were  broadened ;   his  forethought  grew. 

The  dog  has  been  of  chief  value  to  the  himter  and  the 
husbandman.  He  was  by  nature  a  superb  scout;  vigilant, 
keen,  able  to  take  care  of  himself,  and  quick  to  learn  ways  of 
cooperating  with  his  master.  He  coul  d  be  taught  what  to  do, 
and — yet  more  remarkable — ^what  not  to  do,  even  to  the 
curbing  of  his  natural  appetites.     From  eating  sheep  and 


lo6  XATIRAL  HISTORY   OF   THE  FARM 

fowls  he  came  with  edueation  to  be  the  protector  and  shep- 
herd of  them.  He  could  be  taught  to  work  also,  the  too 
small  to  be  of  value  where  large  beasts  of  burden  are  available ; 
yet  that  stocky  dog,  the  turnspit,  was  developed  to  operate 
the  treadmill.  He  is  a  draft  animal  in  arctic  lands;  there  his 
flesh  also  sers'cs  to  tide  over  many  a  famine,  and  his  furry 
coat  is  used  for  clothing.  It  is  only  in  our  cities,  where 
removed  from  the  ways  of  nature,  and  subject  to  too  much 
coddling,  and  developed  in  freak  varieties,  that  he  has  become 
a  stupid  and  useless  nuisance. 

Dogs  are  subservient  to  their  masters  in  both  sexes;  wliile 
the  males  of  the  larger  domesticated  beasts,  after  centuries  of 
care  and  training,  remain  dangerous  beasts  still. 

One  of  the  greatest  advances  in  agri- 
culture came  with  the  domestication  of 
the  cattle-kind,  and   their  use  as  draft 
Fig.  50.     Ox  yoke:   our  animal s.       Tumiug    the     soil    ^^'ith    a 

chief  symbol  of  servitude.  ,  .    , 

sharpened  stick  was,  to  the  early 
planter,  a  sore  task,  and  a  slow  one.  When  the  stick  was 
exchanged  for  a  plow,  and  the  great  strength  of  the  ox 
was  set  to  draw  it,  then  tillage  began  on  a  larger  scale. 
Then  settled  homes,  and  projjerty  in  land,  began  to  be 
develo])ed.  Nature  cquif)ped  the  cattle  kind  to  serve  us  in 
many  ways.  She  made  them  excellent  producers  of  flesh  and 
of  milk,  of  hides  and  of  honi.  vShe  made  them  hard}',  and 
adaptable  to  a  great  variety  of  climate  and  of  artificial  condi- 
tions of  life.  She  made  them  to  live  on  such  herbage  as  any 
meadow,  wild  or  tame,  offers.  In  no  other  beasts  has  she  so 
combined  usefulness  in  labor,  docility,  and  productiveness. 
The  horse  has  been  one  of  man's  chief  hel]:)ers  along  the 
road  of  progress.  Next  to  the  dog  he  has  been  man's  most 
intimate  associate.  He  was  adinirably  adai)ted  by  nature  to 
su]:>plcment  man's  physical  ]:)owers.  He  was  of  the  right  size : 
not  too  small  to  carry  a  rider  and  not  too  large  nor  too 


DOMESTICATED  MAMMALS  OF  THE  FARM         107 

obstinate  to  be  manageable.  His  back  was  a  natural  saddle, 
behind  the  sloping  shoulder  blades,  and  his  well-knit  frame 
was  well  braced  and  fitted  for  carrying  a  rider  easily  His 
rounded  muscular  hams  gave  power  to  his  hind  legs  and  made 
them  efficient  organs  of  propulsion.  His  lengthened  foot 
bones  gave  length  of  stride.  His  solid  hoofs  were  well 
cushioned  and  admirably  adapted  for 
travel  over  solid  ground.  His  gait  was 
more  easy  and  graceful  than  that  of  any 
other  beast  of  burden.  The  structure  of 
his  mouth  would  seem  to  have  invited  the  '^ 
use  of  a  bridle-bit  for  his  guidance  and 
control.  The  whole  horse  invited  a  rider; 
and  doubtless  many  a  savage  youth,  who 
had  captured  an  orphaned  colt  and  reared 
it  by  hand,  felt  moved  to  accept  the  invi-  ^TsmutSi^''"^'''" 
tation.  At  first  he  doubtless  rode  bare- 
back, and  with  only  a  cord  halter  for  control.  Later, 
he  invented  a  saddle  and  a  bridle.  To  a  strong  horse, 
the  weight  of  grown  man  is  a  lightsome  burden.  The 
saddle  is  not  a  symbol  of  labor,  but  of  a  pleasure  that 
is  mutual.  The  two  participants  seem  complement al. 
The  trained  horse  and  the  skilful  rider  make  a  unit  in 
action:  they  make  up  such  a  powerful  creature  as  the 
mythical  Centaur  was  intended  to  portray.  In  the  long 
struggles  of  past  centuries  during  which  incessant  wars  were 
waged  in  hand  to  hand  encounter,  the  mounted  soldier  had  a 
tremendous  advantage.  The  horse  lent  him  swiftness 
and  strength  and  momentum  in  attack,  and  advantage  of 
position  in  the  fray.  The  mounted  soldiery  of  the  Aryan 
and  Semitic  peoples  enabled  them  to  overrun  the  earth. 
As  the  wealth  of  a  people  was  measured  of  old  by  its  herds 
of  cattle,  so  its  power  was  measured  by  its  multitudes  of  war 
horses.     All  ancient  art  and  literature  testify  abundantly  to 


io8  NATURAL   HISTORV   OF  THli:  FARM 

this.  The  horse  was  ke])t  for  use  in  war  mainly.  Some 
peculiarities  of  his  mental  make-up  seem  to  fit  him  for  the 
parade  pjound.  He  seems  to  love  excitement.  He  enters 
into  a  race  with  j^eat  zest.  He  steps  high  in  ])ublic  and 
wears  tlie  tra])i)ings  of  war  \\'ith  all  the  proud  disdainfulness 
of  a  Cavalier.  He  has  given  his  name  to  one  ostentatious 
period  of  our  history,  the  Age  of  Chivalry. 

To  the  Greeks  we  ]:)robably  owe  an  invention  of  the  first 
order,  that  has  adapted  the  horse  more  fully  to  our  needs: 
the  iron  shoe,  to  fit  his  foot  for  continuous  travel  over  hard 
roads.  The  cloven  foot  of  the  ox  could  not  be  so  equi]:)ped. 
It  was  adapted  for  soft  ground  and  could  not  endure  hard 
roads.  The  horse  gradually  took  the  place  of  the  ox,  first  on 
the  roads  and  later  in  the  furrow.  The  horse  was  both 
s^^^fter  of  foot  and  stronger.  Do  we  not  still  measure  the 
energy  used  for  hea\'y  work  in  horse-power  ? 

To  our  welfare  sheep  have  contributed  of  their  flesh  and 
their  wool.  The  latter  is  their  unique  gift  to  us.  Man's 
earlier  clothing  of  sldns  was  hea\^  and  unadaptable  and 
unhygienic.  Sheep's  wool  is  finely  adapted  to  be  spun  into 
threads  and  woven  into  cloth;  and,  so  treated,  it  makes  the 
strongest  and  best  of  clotliing.  The  discovery  of  this  art 
wrought  one  of  the  greatest  advances  in  the  comforts  of  life 
for  people  in  temperate  climes.  Sheep  do  not  belong  to  the 
tropics.  They  are  adapted  to  life  in  rough,  hilly,  semi- 
agricultural  districts.  They  are  less  exacting  as  to  forage 
than  are  cattle,  and  being  strictly  gregarious,  the  flocks 
are  more  easily  herded  and  guarded  from  the  attack  of  wild 
beasts.  They  are  quicker  of  growth  than  cattle,  and  more 
prolific,  and  less  capital  is  required  to  make  a  beginning  at 
sheep-raising. 

The  pig  has  served  us  mainly  as  a  supplementary  food 
su];]jly.  He  puts  on  flesh  quickly  and  is  very  prolific. 
Hence,  the  meat  supply  can  be  more  quickl\'  increased  by 


DOMESTICATED  MAMMALS  OF  THE  FARM  109 

raising  pigs  than  by  raising  sheep  or  cattle.  In  our  late  Civil 
War,  hogs  early  became  the  main  reliance  for  meat  supply  for 

the  soldiers  on  both  sides. 
The  quantity  of  pork  in  the 
country  at  any  given  time  may, 
by  raising  hogs,  be  doubled  in 
eighteen    months.       Hogs    are 

Fig.  52.     A  quick-growing  meat  supply.  n        •    i_  •  j  ^ 

^  well  nigh  ommvorous  and  are 

gifted  by  nature  with  a  keen  sense  of  smell,  with  the  aid  of 
which  they  are  able  to  find  food  that  cattle  and  horses  waste. 
So  they  are  usually  allowed  to  run  after  cattle  to  convert  the 
waste  into  pork.  The  pig  is  not  naturally  a  very  dirty  animal , 
when  given  a  chance  to  be  clean,  nor  is  he  hopelessly  stupid. 
He  can  be  taught  more  tricks  than  many  animals  that  have  a 
higher  reputation  for  cleverness.  His  manners,  however,  are 
bad. 

These  five  animals,  dog,  horse,  ox,  sheep  and  pig  are  as  yet 
our  main  dependence.  There  are  others  more  or  less  widely 
kept,  like  the  cat  and  the  ass  and  the  goat  and  the  rabbit; 
but  these  five  are  most  necessary  to  us.  These  illustrate  well 
the  phenomena  of  domestication:  the  many  different  pur- 
poses served  by  different  beasts,  the  great  differences  among 
them  in  size,  in  strength,  in  speed,  in  habits,  in  disposition, 
and  in  products.  We  do  not  treat  any  two  kinds  of  them 
alike,  nor  in  speaking  to  them,  do  we  use  the  same  words. 

They  have  affected  our  sympathies  and  our  habits,  enriched 
our  language,  and  conditioned  our  progress.  How  individual 
they  are:  how  well  known  and  characteristic  are  their 
voices.  Dogs  bark  and  whine  and  howl:  cats  purr  and 
mew  and  yowl:  horses  whinny  and  neigh:  bulls  bellow 
and  cows  bawl :  pigs  gnmt  and  squeal :  sheep  bleat :  don- 
keys bray.  How  characteristic  their  actions  are,  also.  They 
fiimish  our  most  graphic  figures  of  speech.  Often  in  politics 
or  in  business  we  hear  men  accused  of  shying,  of  balking,  of 


no  XATURAL  HISTORY   ni-    Till-:   FARM 

getting  their  bristles  up,  or  of  having  the  fur  rubbed  the 
wrong  way;  of  barking  up  the  wrong  tree.  Ethnologists  tell 
us  that  half  the  words  in  any  primitive  language  are  derived 
from  association  with  animals. 

They  have  been  long  and  intimately  associated  with  man- 
kind. They  have  learned  some  things  from  us,  but  we  l.avc 
learned  vastly  more  from  them.  We  have  learned  fidelity 
from  the  dog,  chivalry  from  the  horse,  gentleness  from  the 
cow,  parental  affection  and  cooperation  and  sympathy  from 
all  of  them.  To  our  minds,  the  dog  stands  for  fealty;  he 
represents  many  pri\'ate  virtues.  The  horse  stands  for 
courage;  he  represents  rather  the  pubUc  \4rtues.  The  ox 
stands  for  docility.  The  sheep  represents  our  commonest 
social,  the  pig,  our  commonest  personal  shortcomings. 

How  much  we  have  been  influenced  in  our  dealings  with 
them  by  their  mental  characteristics  is  well  shown  by  the 
horse:  his  flesh  is  excellent,  but  the  thought  of  eating  it  is 
repugnant  to  us.  The  milk  of  mares  is  good,  but  who  would 
dri  nk  i t  ^  In  lands  where  certain  cattl  e  are  regarded  as  sacred , 
their  flesh  i s  not  considered  good  to  eat.  Their  availability  as 
food  is  not  determined  by  our  judgment,  but  by  our  sjanpa- 
thies.  Furthermore,  the  mule,  considered  from  a  purely  utili- 
tarian standpoint,  has  much  to  commend  him  to  our  favor. 
Though  he  is  a  hybrid  between  the  horse  and  the  ass,  he  is 
stronger  than  either  parent.  He  will  live  on  coarser  food 
than  the  horse,  and  needs  less  careful  liandling.  But  he  is 
a  sterile  hybrid;  his  voice  is  a  bray,  his  ears  are  long,  he  is 
inelegant  in  outline  and  in  his  bearing,  and  his  manners  lack 
all  the  pleasing  little  playful  capers  of  the  horse.  He  has 
taken  no  hold  on  our  affections. 

The  domestication  of  all  our  important  live  stock  antedates 
history.  Of  the  five  most  imi^ortant  inammals  discussed  in 
the  preceding  pages,  the  ancestor  of  only  the  pig  is  known. 
It  is  the  ^\^ld  boar  of  Europe.     Selection  has  done  its  proper 


DOMESTICATED  MAMMALS  OF  THE  FARM         in 

work  on  all  of  them,  and  as  many  types  of  each  of  them  have 
been  evolved  as  there  were  purposes  to  be  served.  Selection 
began  with  dogs,  and  has  proceeded  farthest  with  them. 
They  have  served  the  greatest  variety  of  purposes.  There 
are  sledging  dogs  for  the  arctic  fields,  and  turnspits  for  the 
tread  mills,  and  bulldogs  to  guard  the  door,  and  shepherd  dogs 
to  guard  the  flocks,  and  besides  these,  and  more  numerous 
than  all  these,  are  the  hunting  dogs:  for  hunting  was  the 
occupation  that  dogs  could  best  aid.  There  were  developed, 
to  meet  the  various  conditions  of  the  chase,  harriers  and 
beagles  and  pointers  and  setters  and  terriers,  etc.,  and,  to 
follow  particular  kinds  of  game,  bloodhounds  and  foxhounds 
to  run  by  smell,  and  greyhoimds  and  staghoimds  to  nm  by 
sight;  and  so  on,  dogs  without  end.  The  case  is  much 
simpler  with  the  other  mammals.  Horses  are  bred  mainly 
for  speed  or  for  draft,  tho  there  are  many  kinds  of  horses,  and 
ponies  for  children's  use  besides.  Cattle  are  bred  mainly  for 
beef  or  for  milk  production;  sheep  for  mutton  or  for  wool; 
pigs  for  lard  or  for  bacon,  etc.  In  the  following  study  we 
shall  have  opportunity  to  study  a  number  of  the  important 
breeds.  Let  us  do  it  without  forgetting  that  the  reasons  for 
their  value  to  us  have  lain  and  yet  lie  in  their  natural  history. 

Study  14.     The  Domesticated  Mammals  of  the  Farm 

The  object  of  this  study  is  an  acquaintance  with  the  live 
stock  of  the  farm:  their  nimiber,  location,  characteristics 
and  uses. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  trip  to  all  the  bams 
where  domesticated  mammals  are  kept :  (i)  a  preliminary 
examination  will  be  made  of  a  typical  representative  of 
each  species,  and  then  (2)  a  more  detailed  examination  of  the 
varieties  of  a  few  species. 


112  NATURAL  HISTORY   OF  THE   FARM 

The  record  of  this  study  will  l)c  in  two  parts: 

1 .  The  student  will  write  u])  brief  notes  on  the  dofr,  horse, 
cow,  shee]\  pig,  etc.,  conceniing  those  ])oints  in  their  natural 
history  detennining  their  ax-ailability  for  purposes  of  domesti- 
cation as  follows:  their  size  and  weight  (average);  rate  of 
growth;  rei)roductive  capacity;  foods  and  feeding  habits; 
voice  and  social  habits;  weapons  and  fighting  habits;  for 
what  use  fit;  and  general  attractiveness  or  unattractiveness 
of  make-up  and  behavior.  These  notes  should  include  only 
personal  obser\'ations. 

2.  The  record  of  the  second  ])art  of  this  study,  the  com- 
parison of  breeds,  may  conveniently  be  incorporated  into 
tables,  one  for  each  species  studied,  \^^th  column  headings 
indicating  the  more  obvious  points  of  structure  and  of  pro- 
ductiveness and  habits  in  which  the  breeds  differ  from  one 
another.  For  example,  a  table  for  the  breeds  of  cattle  might 
have  the  column  headings  as  follows: 

Name  of  breed  (as  Holstein,  Ayrshire,  etc.) 

Average  weight  (adult) 

Average  milk  production  (get  data  from  dairy  record). 

Color  and  markings. 

Horns. 

Muzzle. 

Feet. 

Other  peculiarities. 

Nimiber  kept. 

Kept  where. 

Average  market  \'alue. 


XV.     THE   FOWLS   OF   THE   FARM 

"No  longer  now  the  winged  habitants, 
That  in  the  woods  their  sweet  lives  sing  away, 
Flee  from  the  form  of  man;  hut  gather  round, 
A  nd  prune  their  sunny  feathers  on  the  hands 
Which  little  children  stretch  in  friendly  sport 
Towards  these  dreadless  partners  of  their  play." 

— Shelley  (.Daemon  of  the  World). 

In  that  day,  not  so  long  gone  in  America,  when  all  men 
were  htmtsmen,  and  when  game  was  all-important  animal 
food,  wild  fowls  were  abundant  everywhere.  The  feathered 
game  was  the  most  toothsome  and  wholesome  of  animal 
foods.  The  waterfowl,  fattened  on  wild  rice  and  on  wild 
celery,  and  the  turkeys  and  pigeons,  fattened  on  mast,  acquired 
a  flavor  that  is  a  tradition  among  our  epicures.  Eggs,  also, 
and  feathers  were  their  further  contribution  to  hiunan  needs. 

These  wild  fowl,  altho  mainly  different  species  from  those 
we  have  domesticated,  represent  the  same  bird  groups  that 
are  used  by  mankind  the  world  over:  land  fowl,  and  water- 
fowl, and  pigeons.  There  were  also  a  good  many  lesser 
edible  birds  of  no  great  importance,  such  as  the  snipe  of  the 
shores,  the  woodcock  of  the  swamps,  and  the  rails  of  the 
marshes.  Comparatively  few  birds  were  big  enough  to  be 
worthy  of  consideration  as  food  for  man.  Of  large  land  fowl 
the  most  noteworthy  were  wild  turkeys  and  grouse  and  quail. 
Of  large  waterfowl  there  were  swans  and  geese  and  ducks. 
Of  tree-dwelling  fowl  there  were  w^ld  pigeons. 

To  learn  how  abundant  these  were  we  need  go  back  only  a 
little  to  the  records  of  the  pioneers.  Father  Raffeix,  the 
Jesuit  missionary  who  was  one  of  the  first  white  men  to  dwell 
beside  "Cayuga's  waters,"  wrote  thus  of  the  abundance  of 
game  in  the  Cayuga  basin:  ''Every  year  in  the  vicinity  of 
Cayuga   more   than    a   thousand   deers   are   killed.     Four 

113 


114 


NATURAL  IIISTORV   OF   THIv   FARM 


leagues  distant  from  here  on  the  brink  of  the  river  (the 
Seneca)  are  eight  or  ten  fine  salt  fountains  in  a  small  si)ace. 
It  is  there  that  nets  are  spread  for  pigeons,  and  from  seven  to 
eight  hundred  are  often  taken  at  a  single  stroke  of  the  net. 
Lake  Tiohero  (Ca>'uga),  one  of  the  two  wliieh  joins  our  can- 
ton, is  fully  fourteen  leagues  long  and  one  or  two  broad.  It 
abounds  in  swans  and  geese  all  winter,  and  in  spring  one  sees 
a  continuous  cloud  of  all  sorts  of  game.  The  ri\cr  which 
rises  in  the  lake  soon  di\ades  into  different  channels  enclosed 
by  prairies,  with  here  and  there  fine  attractive  bays  of  con- 
siderable extent,  excellent  places  for  hunting."  (Jesuit 
Relatiois  for  1671-72). 

Of  our  fine  native  fowl,  one,  the 
turkey,  has  been  domesticated;  one, 
the  wild  pigeon  has  been  wholly  exter- 
minated ;  and  most  of  the  others  have 
been  hunted  almost  to  the  point  of 
extinction.  Game  laws  have  served 
in  the  ixist  merely  to  prolong  a  lit- 
tle their  slaughter.  If  there  be  any 
hope  of  preserving  unto  future  gener- 
ations the  remnant  of  those  game  birds 
that  still  survive,  it  would  seem  to  lie 
in  the  permanent  rescr\'ations  that  are 
being  established  north  and  south, 
for  their  ]3rotcction. 

The  wild  pigeon  was  the  first  of  our 
fine  game  birds  to  disappear.  Its 
social  habits  were  its  undoing,  when 
once  guns  were  brought  to  its  pursuit. 
It  flew  in  great  flocks  which  were 
cons])icuous  and  noisy,  and  which  the 
hunter  could  follow  by  eye  and  ear, 
^""igton.  ^^^  "^'^^  pa*«"8er  ^^^^  ^^^^^^  (\o\\\\    with   shot   at  cvcry 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  FARM  115 

resting  place.  One  generation  of  Americans  found  the 
pigeons  in  "inexhaustible  supply:"  the  next  saw  thera 
vanish — ^vanish,  so  quickly  that  few  museums  even  sought 
to  keep  specimens  of  their  skins  or  their  nests  or  their  eggs; 
the  third  generation  (which  we  represent)  marvels  at  the  true 
tales  of  their  aforetime  abundance,  and  at  the  swiftness  of 
their  passing;  and  it  allows  the  process  of  extermination  to  go 
on  only  a  little  more  slowly,  with  other  fine  native  species. 

The  waterfowl  have  fared  a  little  better.  Their  migratory 
habits  have  kept  most  of  them,  except  at  the  season  of  their 
coming  and  going,  out  of  the  way  of  the  pot-himter.  In  their 
summer  breeding  groimds  in  the  far  north,  and  in  their  winter 
feeding  grounds  in  the  far  south  they  have  been  exposed  mainly 
to  those  natural  enemies  with  which  they  were  fitted  to  cope. 
Yet,  before  the  fusillade  of  lead  that  has  followed  their  every 
flight  across  our  borders  their  ranks  have  steadily  thinned. 
Their  size  and  conspicuousness  (and  consequent  ability  to 
gratify  the  hunter's  zeal  for  big  game)  seem  to  be  determining 
the  order  of  their  passing.  The  swans  have  disappeared: 
the  geese  are  nearly  gone:  rarely  do  we  hear  their  honk, 
honk  overhead  in  springtime;  and  the  wild  ducks  appear  in 
our  Cayuga  skies  in  ever-lessening  numbers.  Who  that 
has  grown  up  in  a  land  of  abtmdant  wild  fowl,  has  known 
them  as  heralds  of  simimer  and  winter,  has  seen  them  coming 
out  of  the  north  and  disappearing  into  the  south,  has  not 
marvelled  at  the  swiftness,  strength  and  endurance  of  their 
flight,  and  been  uplifted  with  enthusiasm  as  he  watched  their 
well-drilled  V-shaped  companies,  cleaving  the  sky  in  lines  of 
perfect  alignment  and  spacing.  Our  literature  testifies 
abundantly  to  the  inspiration  of  this  phenomenon.  How 
much  poorer  will  our  posterity  be  if  these  signs  are  to  dis- 
appear from  our  zodiac! 

The  terrestrial  wild  fowl  have  vanished  also;  especial! \- 
those  that,  like  the  wild  turkey,  were  large  enough  to  be 


ii6 


NA'IUKAL  HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 


Pre.  54.     Bob- white  (after  Seton). 


trophies  to  the  hunter;  or 
those,  Hkc  the  bob-white, 
that  were  social  in  habits;  or 
those,  hke  tlie  prairie  hen. 
that  flew  in  the  open  and 
could  be  followed  by  the  eye 
to  cover.  Our  woods-loving 
niffed  grouse  has  fared  a 
little  better.  Wherever  suffi- 
cient forest  cover  remains, 
it  has  been  able  to  maintain 
itself  in  spite  of  well  -anned 
pursuers.  It  is  alert.  It  is 
solitar}'.  Its  protective 
coloration  is  well  nigh  perfection.  Its  flight  is  swift; 
and  when  flushed  from  cover,  it  goes  off  ^vith  a  starthng 
suddenness  and  ^^•hirring  of  wings  that  disconcerts  the 
average  hunter  and  delays  his  fire  until  a  safe  esca])e 
has  been  made.  Moreover,  the  hunter,  by  killing  off 
some  of  its  worst  enemies  among  the  beasts  of  prey,  has 
unwittingly  helped  the  grouse  to  hold  its  place.  So  it 
remains  with  us,  by  virtue  of  its  superb  natural  endowment, 
notwithstanding  it  is  truly  a  hunter's  prize.  Fattened  on  the 
^vild  cereals  of  the  woodland  swales, 
and  fla\'orcd  with  the  aromatic  buds 
of  the  sweet  birch,  there  is  no  more 
toothsome  game  bird  in  the  world 
than  this  one. 

Among  the  curious  sounds  made 
by  male  birds,  the  calls  of  our  native 
land  birds  arc  most  unique.  The 
ludicrous  goljble  of  the  turkey,  the 
thrilling  whistle  of  the  Ijob-w^hite, 
the  muiflcd  drumming  of  the  niffed 


/v  .:;= 


The     m.ilc      ruffed 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  FARM 


17 


Fig.  56.       The    sora    rail     {Porzana 
Carolina.) 


grouse,   are  sounds  unmatched  in  nature  and  inimitable; 
so  also  are  the  antics  that  accompany  their  utterance. 

The  day  of  abundance  of  wild 
fowl  in  this  country  is  forever 
past.  The  most  that  may  be 
hoped  for  by  the  bird-lover  is 
that  a  few  may  be  saved  here 
and  there,  wherever  fit  homes 
for  them  remain.  The  pigeon  is 
gone;  the  turkey  is  a  captive; 
but  let  us  hope  that  a  few  wild 
_  „         places  will  be  preserved  where 

2     xvC-^'-'^'iJi^^^il  -         those  who  come  after  us  may 

hear  the  call  of  the  bob-white 
and  the  grouse  in  our  vales: 
let  us  hope  they  may  be  uplifted 
with  the  sight  of  some  of  our 
fine  wild  waterfowl,  traversing  the  equinoctial  skies. 

Our  ancestors  brought  with  them  to  America  fowls  that 
had  been  domesticated  in  earlier  times  and  in  far  distant 
lands:  chickens,  ducks,  geese,  pigeons,  guineafowl,  pea- 
fowl, etc.  These,  doubtless,  came  into  domestication  largely 
by  way  of  the  barnyard.  Are  they  not  called  barnyard 
fowl,  and  so  distinguished  from  wild  fowl?  They  may  have 
lingered  about  the  stalls  of  the  cattle  and  horses  in  primeval 
times  to  find  the  grain  wasted  by  these  animals,  and  to  feed 
upon  it.  It  is  a  noteworthy  fact  that  of  all  birds,  the  ones  most 
useful  to  us  are  those  that  are  best  equipped  by  nature  for 
working-over  the  barnyard  litter  and  securing  the  grain  left 
in  it ;  the  gallinaceous  birds  by  scratching  with  their  feet ;  the 
waterfowl  by  dabbling  with  their  beaks.  They  consimaed 
what  would  otherwise  have  been  wasted,  and  turned  it  into  a 
reserve  meat  supply;  so  they  were  encouraged  to  remain. 
With  growing  familiarity  they  made  their  nests  in  the  hay- 


Il8  NATURAL   HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

mow  and  among  the  fodder,  where  their  eggs  could  be  more 
easily  found  than  in  the  woods.  Here  was  another  reason  for 
encouraging  intimacy.  Nests  WTre  made  for  them;  at  first, 
as  nearly  as  might  be,  after  their  own  models.  Then  shelters 
were  erected  over  their  roosts;  then  pens  were  built  to  keep 
them  from  their  enemies.  So,  by  some  such  easy  stages, 
poultry  husbandry  probably  began. 

The  most  valuable  fowls  are  those  that  furnish  eggs  as  well 
as  meat.  Eggs  are  pure  food,  containing  no  refuse.  Among 
animal  foods  they  are  nature's  choicest  product.  They  are 
edible  without  cooking  and  are  at  their  best  when  most 
simply  prepared  for  the  table.  All  the  world  eats  eggs ;  and 
in  any  land  to  which  one  may  travel,  whatever  its  culinary 
offerings,  one  may  eat  eggs,  and  live. 

Among  domesticated  fowls,  chickens  hold  first  place.  The 
ob\'ious  practical  reasons  for  this  are  the  excellent  quality  of 
their  flesh,  the  rapidity  of  their  growth,  their  productivity  of 
eggs,  and  their  hardiness  and  ready  adaptabiUty  to  the 
artificial  conditions  under  which  we  keep  them.  The  less 
obvious,  but  none  the  less  real  reason,  is  that  we  like  chick- 
ens for  their  interesting  ways.  They  are  eminently  social 
creatures,  endowed  with  a  wonderful  \'ariety  of  voice  and  signs 
for  social  converse.  Their  beauty  strongly  appeals  to  us. 
We  are  interested  in  the  arrogant  complacency  of  the  cock,  in 
his  cheerful  pugnacity,  his  lusty  crowing,  his  watchfulness 
over  his  flock,  his  warning  call  when  a  hawk  appears  in  the  sky, 
and  his  great  gallantry  toward  the  hens.  How  ostenta- 
tiously he  calls  them  when  he  finds  a  choice  morsel  of  food 
(tho  he  may  absent-mindedly  swallow  it  himself).  We  like 
the  hen  for  her  gentle  demeanor,  her  cheerful,  tho  umnelo- 
dious  song;  her  diligence  and  capability  in  all  her  daily 
tasks;  her  fine  maternal  instincts  and  self-sacrificing  devotion 
to  her  brood.  The  chicks  also  appeal  to  us  by  their  downy 
plumpness  of  fomi,  their  cheerful  sociability  and  their  soft 


THE  FOWLS  OF  THE  FARM  119 

conversation,  and  pla3rfulness.  Contrast  with  this  the  pea- 
fowl :  it  is  of  good  quality  and  large  size  and  effulgent  showi- 
ness,  but  it  has  a  raucous  voice  and  bad  social  manners, 
and  it  has  never  taken  any  hold  on  the  affections  of  human 
kind.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  in  the  beginning — in  those 
prehistoric  days  during  which  all  our  important  conquests  of 
animated  nature  were  made — when  association  with  domestic 
animals  was  much  more  intimate  than  now,  animals  were 
selected,  as  other  associates  are  selected,  on  the  basis  of 
pleasing  personal  characteristics. 

Study  15.     The  Fowls  of  the  Farm 

Few  observations  by  a  class  on  wild  fowl  are  possible: 
hence,  this  study  assumes  a  few  such  forms  as  grouse,  bob- 
whites  and  pheasants  in  pens,  and  available  domesticated 
breeds  of  the  various  kinds  of  poultry.  The  information 
obtainable  in  the  pens  may  be  supplemented  by  exhibits  of 
skins,  nests,  and  eggs,  by  photographs  and  lantern  sHdes. 
Two  things  are  here  proposed  to  be  undertaken: 

1.  A  general  comparison  of  fowl  species,  wild  and  tame, 
as  to  those  qualities  that  determine  availability  for  domestica- 
tion; and 

2.  A  comparison  and  census  of  the  breeds  of  the  more 
important  kinds  of  poultry  maintained  on  the  fann. 

The  program  of  work  will  include  a  visit  to  at  least  one  pen 
of  each  kind  (species,  not  breed)  of  fowl,  with  note-taking  as 
indicated  below,  followed  by  a  more  careful  examination  of 
the  breeds  of  one  or  more  kinds. 

The  record  of  the  first  part  may  consist  of  an  annotated  list 
of  all  the  kinds  of  fowls  studied,  with  notes  on  such  points  as 
relative  size  and  weight,  rate  of  growth,  reproductive  capacity, 
foods  and  feeding  habits,  eggs  and  nesting  habits,  broods  and 
breeding  habits,  voice  and  social  habits,  weapons  and  fighting 
habits,  and  their  general  attractiveness  or  unattractiveness  of 


I20  XAIIRAL  HISTORY  OF   THIi:   FARM 

makc-ui)  and  bchax'ior.  In  these  notes  distinguish  between 
oriuiiKil  ohstTW'Uions  and  secondhand  infonnation. 

The  record  of  the  second  part  of  this  study,  the  comparison 
of  breeds,  may  conveniently  be  made  in  the  form  of  a  table, 
pro\'ided  with  column  headings  as  follows: 

Name  of  breed  (PlNinouth  Rock,  bantam,  etc.,  if  a  table 
of  common  fowl). 

Average  weight. 

Average  egg  production  (get  data  from  poultr\'-}ard 
records). 

General  color. 

Special  ornamentation. 

Comb  (make  a  simple  diagram  of  it). 

Feet  (size,  color,  spurs,  feathering,  etc.). 

Peculiarities  of  behavior. 

Other  peculiarities. 

Number  males  kept. 

Number  females. 

Kept  where. 


XVT.     FARM  LANDSCAPES 

"/  do  not  own  an  inch  of  land — 
But  all  I  see  is  mine — 
The  orchard  and  the  mowing-fields, 

The  lawns  and  gardens  fine. 
The  winds  my  tax  collectors  are, 
They  bring  me  tithes  divine.'' 
>  — Lucy  Larcom  {A  Strip  of  Blue). 

Agriculture  is  the  one  great  branch  of  human  industry  that 
does  not  necessarily  spoil  the  face  of  nature.  It  does  not 
leave  the  land  covered  with  slash,  or  heaped  with  culm,  or 
smeared  with  sludge,  or  buried  in  smoke.  It  alters  and 
rearranges,  but  it  keeps  the  world  green  and  beautiful.  It 
changes  wild  pastures  into  tame  ones,  and  substitutes 
orchards  for  woodlands.  Its  crops  and  its  herds  are  good  to 
look  upon.  The  beautiful  plant  or  animal  is  the  one  that  is 
well  grown;  and  farm  plants  and  animals  must  be  well  grown 
to  be  profitable ;  otherwise  there  is  no  good  farming.  Nature 
nourishes  impartially  wild  and  tame,  and  crowns  them 
equally  with  her  opulent  graces  of  form  and  color.  The 
farmer  has  at  hand  all  the  materials  that  nature  uses  to  make 
on  the  earth  an  Eden. 

Fortunately,  there  are  some  features  of  the  beauty  of  the 
country  that  may  not  be  misused.  The  blue  sky  overhead, 
and  the  incomparable  beauty  of  the  clouds,  are  out  of  reach 
and  cannot  be  marred.  Hills  and  vales,  also,  and  lakes  and 
streams,  and  uplands  and  lowlands,  have  all  been  shaped  by 
the  titanic  forces  of  nature,  and  are  beyond  man's  puny 
power  to  change.  These  are  the  major  features  of  the  land- 
scape. It  is  only  the  minor  feattires  that  are,  to  any  appre- 
ciable extent,  within  our  control :  mainly,  the  living  things 
that  are  the  finishings  and  furnishings  of  one's  immediate 
environment.     These,  however,  ahvays  fill  the  foreground, 

121 


122  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 

gi\4ng  it  life  and  interest.     With  these  one  may  do  much  to 
alter  the  setting  of  his  labors. 

Besides  furnishing  the  farmer  with  all  the  materials  used 
in  her  landscape  comi)ositions,  nature  surrounds  him  with 
good  models,  from  the  study  of  which  he  may  learn  their  use. 
If  he  looks  to  the  ^^'ildwood  about  him  he  will  be  able  U)  find 
scenes  that  disclose  the  elements  of  landscape  beaut >•.  He 
wdll  find  sheltering  nooks  that  invite  him  to  come  and  rest  in 
their  seclusion;  sinuous  streams  and  cun'ing  i)aths  whose 
gracefully  sweeping  lines  invite  his  imagination  to  wander; 
broad  levels,  whereon  his  eye  rests  with  pleasure,  bordered  by 
cumulous  masses  of  shrubbery;  tree-covered  slopes,  with  the 
leafage  climbing  to  the  summits,  here  advancing,  there 
retreating,  ever^-^-here  varied  with  infinite  tuftings,  full  of 
Hghts  and  shadows;  irregular  skylines,  punctuated  by  not 
too  many  nor  too  prominent  fonns  of  indi\-iduality;  and  all 
organized  and  unified  and  harmonizing  as  component  pcLvts 
of  the  border  of  the  \'allcy  of  some  stream  or  lake. 

Now  the  farm  is  not  a  natural  unit  of  tliis  larger  landscape, 
but  only  a  small  section  arbitrarily  marked  out  by  the  sur- 
veyor. With  the  larger  landsca])e  the  best  one  can  do  is  to 
locate,  if  he  may,  where  the  j^rosi^ect  is  good.  Moreover,  the 
curving  lines  of  nature's  pictures  and  the  merging  masses  of 
her  plantings,  are  not  practiealh'  a])]3licable  to  the  growing  of 
crops.  The  beauty  of  the  fields  must  be  that  of  an  exhibit, 
the  beauty  of  things  isolated,  and  well  grown. 

The  unity  of  the  farm  plan  should  center  about  the  place 
where  the  farmer  dwells  and  where  others  come  and  go.  It 
will  be  better  for  him  if  the  outlook  from  his  window  is 
pleasing;  it  will  be  better  for  his  community  if  the  inlook 
toward  his  door  from  the  ])ul)lic  road  is  ])lcasing. 

About  the  house  the  suggestions  from  nature's  models  may 
be  freely  applied.  The  lawn  may  furnish  the  broad,  restful, 
level  stretch  of  green  verdure;  over  its  recesses  shapely  trees 


FARM   LANDSCAPES  123 

may  cast  their  inviting  shadows;  a  border  of  gracefully 
merging  masses  of  shrubbery  may  inclose  the  sides  and  give  it 
an  aspect  of  privacy ;  evergreens  may  be  planted  to  shut  out 
the  view  of  unsightly  objects ;  and  the  wood-lot  may  be  left 
to  cover  the  distant  rocky  slope.  Fruit  trees  may  be  used 
for  ornament  as  well  as  service ;  they  will  grow  and  bloom  and 
bear  fruit  just  as  well  where  they  contribute  to  the  beauty  of 
the  place  as  where  they  block  the  view.  And  if  the  roads  and 
fences  be  not  made  too  conspicuous  where  they  transgress 
natural  contour  lines,  and  if  buildings  be  not  set  up  where 
they  hide  the  more  pleasing  distant  prospects,  nor  painted  in 
alarming  hues — then  one  may  look  at  the  place  without 
lamenting  that  it  has  been  "improved."  The  most  pleasing 
of  homesteads  usually  are  not  those  that  have  the  greatest 
advantage  of  location,  or  that  have  had  the  most  money 
lavished  upon  them.  But  they  are  the  places  that  fit  their 
environment  most  perfectly,  and  that  are  planned  and 
planted  most  simply. 

Much  bad  taste  has  been  imported  into  our  country  houses 
from  the  cities  of  late.  In  almost  any  locality  in  the  eastern 
United  States,  it  is  the  older  houses  that  have  the  most 
pleasing  setting.  They  are  not  exposed  on  bare  hilltops,  but 
nestle  among  great  trees  with  always  an  outlook  across  levels 
of  green  toward  distant  hills  or  valleys  or  strips  of  blue  water. 
They  are  sequestered  a  bit  from  the  winds  and  from  the 
public ;  and  as  Wordsworth  said  concerning  the  older  homes 
of  the  lake  country  of  England  (Guide,  p.  43),  "Cottages  so 
placed,  by  seeming  to  withdraw  from  the  eye,  are  the  more  en- 
deared to  the  feelings."  Their  decorative  plantings  are  not 
sickly  "novelties, "leading  a  nursling  existence,  but  the  hardi- 
est of  the  hardy  plants,  that  grow  and,  in  their  season,  bloom 
lustily.  The  houses  are  not  tall  and  spindling,  but  low  and 
contented  and  comfortable-looking.  Their  roofs  are  not  cut 
up  in  figures  to  make  an  alarming  sky  line,  but,  broadly 


124  NATURAL   HISTORY   OF    I'llI-    FARM 

descendinj^,  they  seem  to  have  but  the  one  simple  function  of 
keeping  out  the  rain.  Their  colors  are  not — at  least  they 
were  not — all  the  rainbow  hues.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  u.sed 
to  say.  "If  you  would  fix  upon  the  best  color  for  your  house, 
turn  u])  a  stone,  or  i:)luck  up  a  handful  of  grass  by  the  roots, 
and  see  what  is  the  color  of  the  soil  where  the  house  is  to 
stand,  and  let  that  be  your  choice." 

The  trouble  with  many  homesteads  is  that  no  thought  has 
ever  been  taken  of  the  gifts  of  nature  near  at  hand;  how  rich 
they  are,  and  how  available  for  use  in  beautifying  the  home,  is 
little  realized.  Vistas  that  would  warm  an  artist's  soul  are 
shut  out  by  sheds,  unnoticed.  The  choicest  of  native  plants 
are  cut  away  as  "brush."  Buildings  are  set  down  helter- 
skelter,  facing  all  ways,  at  all  levels,  up  and  down.  The 
boundaries  of  fields  are  accidental.  Roads  happen.  Efficiency 
and  beauty  are  sacrificed  together.  Both  demand  that  a 
homestead  shall  fit  its  environment.  Both  efficiency  and 
beauty  need  a  little  planning  and  forethought.  For  both, 
a  little  study  of  what  nature  offers  in  materials  and  in 
models  lies  near  the  beginning  of  wisdom. 

Study  16.  A  Comparison  of  the  Outlook  of  Local  Farm 
Homesteads 

The  program  of  work  includes  a  visit  to  the  front  approach 
of  half  a  dozen  or  more  near-by  f  annsteads  to  see  how  they  fit 
their  environment ;  to  see  how  their  builders  have  treated  the 
beauties  of  the  larger  landscape,  and  how  they  have  used 
decorative  materials  in  planting. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of  notes  on  each  one 
of  the  honiesteads  visited,  arranged  for  each  one  as  follows: 

No.  (If  the  name  of  the  o\\nier  be  not  set  down,  it  will 
matter  less  whether  the  remarks  l)c  always  com])limentary.) 

location.  (This  may,  ])erhaps,  best  be  shown  In'  making  a 
little  sketch-ma])  of  the  route,  whereon  all  the  j^laces  studied 


FARM   LANDvSCAPES  125 

are  shown  in  relation  to  the  public  highwa^^s  and  to  the  main 
hills  and  valleys) . 

1.  The  natural  setting;    note: 

a)  The  pleasing  views  that  have  been  preserved  or  lost 

in  the  planning. 

b)  The  use  of  nature's  materials  to  add  beauty  or  hide 

ugliness,  or  to  accomplish  the  converse. 

2 .  The  artificial  arrangements ;   Note  (in  so  far  as  visible 
from  the  approach) : 

c)  Concerning  buildings,  whether  they  fit  the  situation, 

look  comfortable,  bespeak  shelter  and  privacy, 
etc.,  and  whether  they  are  arranged  with  unity 
and  harmony. 

d)  Concerning  fields  and  stock-pens,  whether  they  seem 

to  belong  to  the  place,  and  are  harmonious  mth 
each  other  and  convenient  in  location. 

e)  Concerning  roads  and  fences,  whether  they  are  made 

to  add  to  or  to  detract  from  the  beauty  of  the 

place;     whether   harmonious    or    discordant   in 

arrangement;  etc. 

A  general  summary  and  comparison  of  the  places  visited 

as   to   their    attractiveness    or  unattractiveness,    and   the 

reasons  therefor,  should,  in  conclusion,  be  added. 


Individual  Exercises  for  the  Fall  Term 

Five  studies  follow,  whieli  arc  intended  to  be  used  by  the 
student,  individually,  and  at  his  own  convenience.  The  data 
called  for  may  be  picked  u])  during  the  course  of  walks  afield 
for  air  and  exercise;  but  serial  or  extended  obser\ations, 
that  cannot  all  be  made  in  the  course  of  a  sinpjle  class  exercise, 
are  in  all  cases  demanded.  Persomil  initiative  is  desired. 
An  instructor  ma}-  be  asked  to  name  plants  or  animals,  but 
the  student  should  learn  by  these  exercises  to  consult  nature 
inde])endcntly.  He  should  work  alone,  or  with  not  more 
than  one  or  two  com]janions.  A  good  idea  of  the  continuity 
of  nature's  processes  and  of  her  limitless  perseverence  in 
carr\'ing  them  forward  can  be  gained  only  by  oft-repeated 
serial  obser\'ations. 

Optional  Study  1.     A  Student's  Record  of  Farm  Operations 

It  is  the  object  of  this  study  to  discover  how  the  fanner  as 
an  organism  fits  his  environment.  The  student  may  learn 
that  there  is  a  natural  history  of  the  farmer  as  well  as  of  the 
farm.  He  may  see  that  the  fanner's  affairs,  commercial, 
civic,  social,  and  religious,  all  have  their  seasons,  even  as 
leaves  have  their  time  to  fall ;  that  light  and  temperature  and 
rainfall  condition  his  activities,  as  they  do  the  growth  and  the 
labors  of  his  plant  and  animal  associates. 

The  work  of  this  study  will  consist  of  weekly  obscr\'ations 
extending  through  the  tenn  or  year.  In  such  a  table  as  is 
indicated  on  the  next  page,  there  is  to  be  provided  one  column 
for  the  observations  of  each  week.  The  student  will  need  to 
be  so  situated  that  he  may  readily  observe  week  by  week 
what  the  fanners  are  doing;  else  he  would  better  omit  this 
study,  for  secondhand  information  is  not  desired. 

126 


A  STUDENT'S  RECORD  OF  FARM  OPERATIONS 


127 


Observed  during  the  week  be- 
ginning 


Place  of  observation 
Relevant  weather  conditions 

Cereals 

Forage  Crops 

Root  Crops 

Fruits 

Timber  crops 

Other  crops 

Live  stock 

Poultry 
I  Other  animals 


<L> 

!a  i  Soils 

o  I 
w   I 

h  [Roads  and  fences 


^^   Domicile 


Other 
activities 


Business 
Civic 
Social 
Misc. 


Sept.  28th 


Oct.  5th,  etc. 


Footnotes: 


128  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Optional  Study  2.     Noteworthy  Views  of  the  Farm 

The  ol)ject  of  this  study  is  nu-ivly  to  set  tlic  student  to 
obscn-in<^  the  beauties  of  his  immediate  environment.  Let 
him  not  be  troubled  alK)ut  artistic  standards.  Nature 
furnishes  the  artist  with  his  models.  Art  ^ows,  like  a^cnil- 
ture,  by  the  selection  and  intensifying  of  the  best  that  nature 
ofTers .  Let  the  student  merely  select  and  locate  what  appeals 
to  him  as  being  good  to  look  upon.  Let  him  record  his  choice 
in  some  such  table  as  is  outlined  on  pages  130  and  131,  each 
view  after  its  kind. 

Optional  Study  3.  Noteworthy  Trees  of  the  Farm 
One  does  not  know  trees  until  he  knows  indi\'idual  trees; 
until  he  has  compared  them,  and  has  noted  their  personal 
characteristics;  has  observed  the  superior  crown  of  this  one, 
the  s}Tnmetrical  branching  of  that  one,  the  straight  bole  of 
the  other  one.  There  are  trees  that  each  of  us  know 
because  accidental  planting  has  placed  them  where  we  have 
found  it  convenient  to  rest  in  their  gratefid  shade. 
There  are  fine  trees  made  famous  by  their  historical  asso- 
ciations, and  endeared  thereby  to  a  whole  people;  such 
is  the  Washington  Elm  at  Cambridge,  Massachusetts,  the 
tree  under  which  George  Washington  took  charge  of  the 
colonial  armies  at  the  beginning  of  our  war  for  independence. 
But  there  are  yet  finer  trees  remote  from  human  abode  and 
unknown  to  fame,  standing  in  almost  any  original  forest,  that 
appeal  as  individuals  to  a  naturalist.  They  are  tree  per- 
sonages worth  knowing.  The  work  outlined  in  the  table  on 
page  129  will  lead  to  acquaintance  of  this  desirable 
kind.  If  the  student  does  not  already  know  the  different 
kinds  of  trees  by  sight,  this  study  should  not  be  undertaken 
until  after  the  work  outlined  in  class  exercise  9  on  page  76  has 
been  completed.  A  few  subsequent  rambles  among  the  trees 
of  the  farm  will  then  give  opportunity  for  locating  and  getting 
acquainted  with  the  fine  specimens  of  each  species. 


NOTEWORTHY  TREES  OF  THE  FARM 


129 


■NT    . 

Location 

Chosen  forf 

Best  viewed 

1\AMK 

Map 

Situation 

from 

White  Pine 

1 

§ 
0 

Hemlock 

Cedar 

Larch 

c 

1 

Oak* 

. 

> 

s 

1 

3 

Hickory* 
Chestnut 
Butternut 

a 
6 
8 

-4-> 

^ 

Beech 

Birch* 
Maple* 

0) 

PQ 

1 

Elm* 
Ash* 
Basswood 
Sycamore 
Tulip  tree 

Hornbeam* 

Flowering  Dog- 
wood 

Remarks 

Pine  Woods 

0 

Oak  Woods 

^ 

Elm  Woods 

^ 

Beech  Woods 

CO 

General  Forest 
Cover 

*Any  species,  but  specify  which  species. 

fSymmetry,  columnar  trunk,  type  of  branching,  color,  etc. 


I30 


NOTEWORTHY   VIEWS 


Kind  of  view 


1  A  wide  panorama 

2  A  long  vista 

3  A  woodland  aisle 

4  Undulating  fields 

5  A  small  sheltered  valley 

6  A  crop  in  the  field 


7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 


A  meandering  brook 

A  pond  scene 

A  waterfall 

Rocky  cliffs 

A  foliage  picture 

A  scene  uith  farm  animals 


I'i     A  snow  scene 

1 

14    !A  homestead 


For  what  selected 


Prints,  sketches,  or  diagrams  of  the  views  selected 


ON  THE  FARM 


131 


Location 


Best  seen  from 


At  what  time 


may  be  added  to  the  record,  but  are  not  required. 


132  NATURAL  HISTORY   OF   THE    FARM 

Optional  Study  4.     Autumnal  Coloration  and  Leaf  Fall 

Probably  the  grandest  phenomenon  of  nature  that  is  i^ecu- 
liar  to  our  northern  latitude,  is  the  coloration  of  the  woods 
in  autunm.  All  marvel  at  the  display.  Few  obser\-e  it 
carefully.  It  is  the  object  of  this  study  to  direct  attention  to 
some  of  the  external  features  of  it :  the  mechanical  i)re])ara- 
tion  of  the  leaf  for  its  fall,  the  changing  pigments  of  the 
residual  leaf  contents,  and  the  relation  of  these  changes  to 
temperature  and  rainfall,  etc.  The  whole  process  is  a 
wonderful  adaptation  to  meet  winter  conditions,  and  how 
admirabl}^  nature  manages  it !  She  first  withdraws  all  food 
materials  fr(3m  the  leaves  into  the  stem  and  branches.  Then 
she  starts  her  wonderful  dis])lay  by  elaborating  bright  pig- 
ments out  of  the  residue.  Then  she  casts  the  leaves  off  in 
an  orderly  fashion,  developing  breaking  points  at  proper 
places.  So  she  diminishes  to  a  very  small  percentage  the 
area  of  exposed  evaporating  surfaces,  and  thus  she  conser\'es 
moisture  in  the  plant  body  through  the  long  cold  season. 
The  changing  hues  of  autumn  are  more  or  less  accidental  by- 
products of  this  process;     but  they  are  very  beautiful. 

The  work  of  this  study  should  include  serial  obser\'ations 
on  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  more  brilliantly  colored  species, 
continued  from  the  first  appearance  of  an  autumn  tint  until 
the  last  of  the  leaves  have  fallen.  The  same  trees  should  be 
observed  day  by  day,  account  being  taken  of  the  relewint 
weather  conditions.  Hence,  trees,  shrubs  and  vines  near  at 
hand  should  be  chosen.  Those  on  the  lawn  are  apt  to  be  as 
good  as  any,  since  ornamental  planting  in  our  da>^  takes 
careful  forethought  for  the  autumnal  display. 


A  CALENDAR  OF  SEED  DISPERSAL  133 

Optional  Study  5.     A  Calendar  of  Seed  Dispersal 

This  study  is  intended  to  follow  the  class  work  of  Study  8 
(The  November  seed-crop,  page  69),  and  to  continue  through 
the  second  half  of  the  fall  term.  A  dozen  or  more  of  the 
species  of  plants  found  at  that  time  holding  a  full  crop  of  seeds 
should  be  observed  at  least  once  a  week  during  the  remainder 
of  the  term.  Thus,  nature's  method  of  conserving  the  sup- 
ply, and  of  distributing  it  according  to  the  needs  of  her  popu- 
lation, may  be  seen.  No  great  amount  of  time  will  be 
required  if  plants  near  to  one's  daily  route  to  and  from  work 
be  chosen.  A  specimen  of  each  kind  of  seeds,  inclosed  in  a 
small  envelope  and  labelled,  may  be  handed  in  with  the 
record  of  this  study,  if  desired,  for  greater  certainty  of 
determinations.  The  observations  may  conveniently  be 
recorded  in  a  table  prepared  with  the  following  coltimn 
headings : 

Name  (consult  an  instructor  if  you  do  not  know  the  plant) . 

Kind  of  plant  (tallherb,  low  herb,  vine,  trailer,  etc.). 

Seed  cluster  (illustrate  by  a  simple  diagram). 

manner  (seeds  lost  singly,  in  pairs,  in  clusters, 
Seed        I  etc.) 

dispersal     |  agency   (wind,   water,    animals,   plant   auto- 
matism, etc.) 


Date  of 
Remarks 


seeds  first  out. 
maximum  dispersal 
final  dispersal. 


An  additional  optional  study  may  be  allowed  to  any 
student  who  desires  to  acquaint  himself  further  with  the 
local  trees,  by  repeating  Study  9  as  an  individual  exercise 
with  an  entirely  new  list  of  tree  species. 


134 


AUTUMNAL  COLORATION 


Name 


Leaf- 
form' 


Color 


First  Mature 
tint        tint 


Date 


Fading 
tints      Where 
on  leaf 


First  appearing 


Where 
on  tree 


In  wh; 
situ  a 
tion' 


'Diagram,  including  all  leaflets  if  compound. 
'Wet  or  dry  ground,  sun  or  shade,  etc. 


135 


AND  LEAF  F. 

\LL 

Condition  of 
falling  leaves3 

Conditions* 
accompanying^ 
maximum  fall 

Date  of  loss  of  leaves 

Remarks 

Maximum 

Final 

• 

3As  to  breakage  into  pieces,  extent  of  withering,  etc. 
*0f  frost,  wind,  rain,  etc. 


136  NATURAL  HISTORY   OF  THE   FARM 


THE   EXPOSITION 

She  and  I  went  in  it,  the  Big  Fair. 

We  were  tlie  whole  Attendance. 

It  was  all  under  one  roof  which  was  called  The 

Sky. 
Every  day  this  was  rehue<l  hy  invisible  brushes, 

gloriously, 
And  at  night  all  lit  by  countless  lights,  star- 
shaped. 
And  arranged  curiousl>^in  the  form  of  Dippers 

and  things. 
It  must  have  cost  a  fortune  in  some  kind  of  rare 

coin 
To  do  it  that  way. 

By  day  the  place  was  vast  and  very  beautiful. 
The  far  edge  of  it,  all  around,  was  called  the 

Horizon. 
Each  morning,  out  of  the  East, 
A  huge  golden  disk  came 
And  swung  itself  slowly  up  along  the  arch  of  the 

sky-roof 
And  settled  to  the  Westward,  leaving  numerous 

glories  behind. 
There  was  a  water-place  there,  a  Lake,  with  an 

Inlet  and  an  Outlet. 
It  was  not  little  and  brown  like  those  you  see  in 

Madison  Square  Garden, 
But  big  and  blue  and  clean. 
We  splashed  ourselves  in  it  and  laughed,  like 

children. 
The  Lake  had  trout  in  it ; 
I  saw  them  leap  when  the  water  was  still 
And  the  golden  disk  was  falling, 

— Richard  Wightman. 


PART  II 

Studies  for  the  Spring  Term 


XVII.     THE   LAY   OF   THE   LAND 

*^The  hand  that  built  the  firmament  hath  heaved 
And  smoothed  these  verdant  swells,  and  sown  their  slopes 
With  herbage,  planted  them  with  island  groves, 
And  hedged  them  round  with  forests.     Fitting  floor 
For  this  magnificent  temple  of  the  sky — 
With  flowers  whose  glory  and  whose  multitude 
Rival    the  constellations.'' 

— Bryant  {The  Prairies). 

Chief  of  all  land  laws  is  the  law  of  gravity. 

The  solid  crust  of  the  earth  is  overspread  with  a  thin  film 
of  loose  materials  that  collectively  we  call  the  soil.  How 
thin  a  film  it  is  as  compared  with  the  great  mass  of  the  earth ! 
Yet  it  is  the  abode  and  the  source  of  sustenance  of  all  the 
life  of  the  land.  It  enfolds  and  nourishes  the  roots  of  all  the 
trees  and  herbage.  It  clothes  itself  with  ever-renewing 
verdure.  On  it  we  live  and  move.  From  it  we  draw  our 
sustenance.  We  usually  mean  this  thin  top  layer  when  we 
speak  of  the  land. 

This  film  of  soil  covers  the  rocky  earth-crust  with  great 
irregularity  as  to  distribution  and  depth;  for  its  materials 
are  derived  in  the  main  from  the  weathering  of  the  rocks. 
Alternating  frost  and  sun  have  broken  them  to  fragments; 
attrition  and  chemical  action  have  progressively  reduced 
the  fragments  to  dust;  wind  and  flood  have  mixed  them 
and  mingled  with  them  the  products  of  life  and  decay. 
Sun  and  frost  and  rain  and  wind  and  life  and  decay  act 
intermittently,  but  gravity  operates  all  the  time.  Weather- 
ing and  gravity  are  the  great  factors  in  the  modeling  of  the 
landscape.     While  weathering  gleans  the  basic  soil  materials 

^2>7 


138  NATURAL  HISTORY  oF  THE  FARM 

from  the  solid  rock,  p-ii\ity  disposes  of  them:  removes  them 
almost  as  fast  as  formed  from  the  vertical  face  of  the  clifl: 
lets  them  lie  on  the  le\'cl  summit:  sweeps  them  do\\'n  the 
slope:  spreads  them  out  over  the  flood  plain,  making  level 
fields;  or  carries  them  far  away  with  the  rushing  flood  to 
dump  them  into  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  where,  removed  from 
light  and  air,  they  are  lost  to  our  use. 

Thus  the  rugged  and  geologically  ancient  outlines  of 
topography  are  softened  by  erosion  and  the  more  level 
places  are  overspread  by  a  mantle  of  productive  soil. 
Erosion  roimds  off  the  sharp  edges  of  the  headlands; 
silting  fills  the  low  places;  delta  building  covers  the  shores 
about  the  mouths  of  streams;  everywhere  as  time  runs  on, 
sinuous  lines  replace  the  sharp  angles,  and  verdure  replaces 
the  gray  pristine  desolation. 

Let  us  go  to  some  good  point  of  outlook,  some  hill-top  or 
housetop  or  tower,  and  view  the  topography  of  our  own 
neighborhood,  to  see  how  the  land  lies.  We  will  let  oiu*  eyes 
wander  slowly  from  the  near-by  fields  upward  to  the  summit 
of  the  distant  hills,  and  do^\Tlward  to  the  level  of  the  valley; 
we  will  follow  the  stream  that  meanders  across  the  valley 
floor,  back  to  its  more  turbulent  tributaries,  and  on  to  the 
little  brooks  that  run  among  the  hills.  Upland  and  lowland 
levels,  and  intervening  slopes: — these  are  the  natural  divi- 
sions of  the  land ;  and  their  boundaries  are  all  laid  do\\Ti  by 
gravity.  Water  runs  down  hill,  and  loosened  soil  materials 
move  ever  with  it.  They  may  glide  unnoticed  as  tiny  films 
of  sediment  trickling  between  the  clods  of  the  fields ;  or  they 
may  move  in  great  masses  of  earth  and  stone  as  a  landslide, 
scarring  the  face  of  the  steep  slope;  but  ever,  with  the  aid  of 
water,  they  move  to  lower  levels,  and  slowly  the  fonn  of  the 
hill  is  changed.  Flood-plains  broaden:  valleys  are  filled; 
the  slope  grows  gentler;  and  the  upland  plains  are  narrowed 
by  invading  rills. 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAND  139 

Outspread  before  us  as  we  look  abroad  over  the  landscape, 
with  its  levels  of  checkered  fields,  its  patched  and  pie-bald 
hills,  its  willow-bordered  streams  and  reedy  swales,  is  this 
blanket  of  soil,  which  seems  so  permanent,  yet  which  is 
forever  shifting  to  lower  levels. 

Water,  descending,  follows  the  lines  of  least  resistance. 
Hence,  from  every  high  point,  slopes  fall  away  in  all  direc- 
tions. Some  are  ttuned  southward  toward  the  sun,  and 
are  outspread  in  fields  that  are  warm  and  dry;  others  face 
the  north,  and  receive  the  sun's  rays  more  obliquely,  and  are 
shadowy,  moist,  and  cool.  Some  are  exposed  to  the  sweep  of 
the  prevailing  wintry  winds ;  others  are  sheltered  therefrom. 
Some  are  high  and  dry;   others  are  low  and  moist. 

Nature  has  her  own  crops,  suited  to  each  situation;  sedges 
where  it  is  wet;  grasses  where  it  is  dry;  spike-nard  in  the 
shade ;  clovers  in  the  sun.  None  of  them  alone  (as  we  raise 
plants)  nor  in  rectangular  fields,  but  each  commingled  with 
others  of  like  requirements,  and  each  distributed  according 
to  conditions  of  soil,  moisture  and  exposure.  One  may  see 
how  nature  disposes  them  by  comparing  the  life  in  wet  marsh 
and  dry  upland;  or  that  of  sunny  and  shaded  sides  of  a 
wooded  glen. 

Under  natural  conditions  the  soil  of  the  gentler  slopes 
remains  in  comparative  rest,  for  it  is  held  together  by  a  net- 
work of  roots  of  living  plants;  those  never  (except  under 
the  plow)  let  go  all  at  once.  One  dies  here  and  there,  now 
and  then,  and  adds  its  contribution  of  humus  to  the  topmost 
soil  layer.  Under  natural  management,  the  fields  are 
permanently  occupied  and  never  exhausted.  The  richness 
of  the  soil  is  ever  increasing.  Our  stirring  of  the  top  soil 
enormously  accelerates  erosion.  Our  four-square  fields 
and  cross-lot  tillage  are  well  enough  on  the  upland  and  low- 
land levels  where  conditions  are  fairly  uniform  and  the 
loosened  topsoil   cannot   slip   away  into   the   stream;   but 


140  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

among  the  hills,  they  need  to  be  adapted  to  suit  the  condi- 
tions found  on  the  steeper  slopes.  To  ])lo\v  a  fertile  slope  in 
furrows  that  run  up  and  do\\Ti  its  face  is  to  in\-ite  the  storm 
waters  into  i)re])ared  channels  that  they  may  carry  the  soil 
awa>'.  Too  often  the  sur\'eyor's  lines  take  no  account  of  the 
true  boundaries  of  nature's  fields,  and  the  plowinan  knows 
not  the  existence  of  a  law  of  gra\4ty.  Many  a  green  hillside, 
fit  to  raise  permanent  crops  in  perpetuity,  has  been  cleared 
and  ])lowed  and  wasted  in  hardly  more  time  than  was  neces- 
sary to  kill  the  roots  of  the  native  vegetation.  Fortunate 
is  our  outlook  if  the  hills  round  about  us  are  not  scarred  with 
fields  that  bear  silent  testimony  to  such  abuse — fields  that  are 
gullied  and  barren,  with  their  once  rich  top  soil,  the  patri- 
mony of  the  ages  washed  away,. 

It  is  no  small  part  of  the  glory  of  many  charming  inland 
valle\'S  that  is  contributed  by  the  noble  woods  that  climb 
the  side  of  its  bordering  steeps.  The  clearing  of  such  land 
should  never  be  allowed;  for  rightly  managed,  it  will  go  on 
raising  trees  forever  (and  probably  there  is  no  better  use  for 
it),  and  the  scenic  beauty,  the  restfulness  and  charm  which 
it  contributes  to  the  landscape  is  a  valuable  public  asset. 
Steep  slopes  may  be  tilled  permanently  if  the  tiller  of  the 
soil  will  take  a  hint  from  nature  and  regard  the  law  of 
gra\dty — if  he  will  run  his  culture  lines  horizontally,  break 
the  slope  with  terraces,  and  hold  the  front  of  these  with 
permanent  plantings.  Some  of  the  most  beautiful  land- 
scapes of  the  old  world  are  foimd  among  terraced  hills  that 
have  been  cultivated  for  centuries.  But  the  simpler  method 
of  holding  the  soil  together  by  untilled  crops — pastures  and 
tree  croi:)s — is  probably  more  suited  to  American  conditions. 

Fortunate  is  our  outlook,  also,  if  in  the  midst  of  thriving 
farms  and  forested  hills,  there  be  left  a  little  bit  of  land  here 
and  there  that  has  not  been  too  much  "improved."  A  bit 
of  wildwood,  where  the  brush  is  not  cut  nor  the  swamp 


THE  LAY  OF  THE  LAND  141 

drained — a  place,  preferably  near  the  school,  where  the  native 
life  of  the  land  may  be  found — a  sanctuary  for  the  wild  birds 
and  all  the  other  wild  things,  plants  and  animals,  to  which 
the  youth  of  the  rising  generations  may  go  in  order  to  see 
what  the  native  life  of  his  native  land  was  like.  The  wild 
things  are  rapidly  vanishing.  Where  would  one  find  even 
now  a  bit  of  the  rich  unaltered  wild  prairie  that  once  over- 
spread the  interior  of  this  continent,  with  its  tall,  waving 
grasses  and  all  its  wealth  of  wild  flowers? 

The  landscape  belongs  to  all.  Its  smiling  slopes,  or  their 
forlorn  tatters,  affect  the  public  weal.  It  is  good  to  dwell 
in  a  place  where  the  environment  breeds  contentment; 
where  peace  and  plenty  grow  out  of  the  right  use  of 
nature's  resources;  where  smiling  fields  yield  golden  har- 
vests, and  where  well  kept  home-steads  nestle  amid  em- 
bowering trees;  where  both  the  beauty  and  the  bounty 
of  nature  are  acknowledged,  and  wise  measures  are  taken 
to  improve  her  gifts,  and  to  leave  them  unimpaired  for  the 
nurture  of  coming  generations.  Men  have  attained  to 
profitable  co-operation  in  many  lines  of  enterprise.  May 
the  time  come  when  they  will  be  able  to  co-operate  in 
organizing  for  their  best  use  all  features  of  the  larger  units 
of  their  environment;  when  they  will  preser\^e  for  public 
use  the  things  that  meet  the  common  social  needs;  when 
they  will  begin  to  correct  the  ills  that  grow  out  of  arbitrary 
and  artificial  boundaries,  by  following  the  lines  of  nature; 
when  they  will  learn  to  put  all  fields  to  their  best  use,  securing 
productiveness,  convenience  and  beauty. 


142  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Study  17.     The  Natural  Fields  of  the  Farm 

For  the  purposes  of  this  study  a  somewhat  diversified  area 
should  be  selected,  includinpj  bottomlands,  larj^e  or  small, 
bordering  hills  and  level  uplands,  traversed  by  little  streams. 
A  map  should  be  provided,  showing  soil  types  and  all  princi- 
pal topographic  and  cultural  features. 

The  tools  needed  will  be  a  ])ocket  compass  for  taking 
directions,  and  a  loo-ft.  line,  a  hand  level,  and  a  surveyor's 
rod  for  measuring  gradients. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  in : 

1.  A  trip  across  the  uplands,  slopes  and  flood  plains, 
observing  their  expostu-e  and  measuring  their  gradients. 
Natural  adaptations  to  particular  crops,  and  to  choice  sites 
for  buiTows  for  particular  animals,  should  be  noted. 

2.  A  comparison  of  the  life  and  conditions  in  sunny  and 
shaded  slopes  of  a  wooded  ravine. 

The  record  of  tliis  study  may  consist  in : 

1 .  The  map  with  the  natural  fields  roughly  marked  out  in 
part — i.e.,  the  areas  thiit  are  much  alike  in  soil,  gradient, 
exposure,  etc. ,  and  that  are,  therefore,  adapted  to  one  kind  of 
crop.  Mark  direction  of  slope  and  percentage  of  grade 
(roughly  determined  by  measuring  the  descent  per  hundred 
feet  with  level,  line,  and  rod  at  some  average  place)  in  each 
field.  Mark  also  on  the  map  the  direction  of  the  prevailing 
wind  of  the  season  that  is  most  trying  to  vegetation. 

2.  A  summary  statement  as  to  relative  area  of  each  ex- 
posure ;  also  the  maximum  gradient  foimd  under  cultivation, 
and  the  condition  of  its  soil. 

3.  A  comparison  in  word  or  diagram  of  the  two  sides  of  a 
wooded  ravine  having  an  East  and  West  direction,  as  to, 
(a)  tall  plants,  (b)  imdergro\\i:h  plants,  (c)  moisture,  (d) 
accumulation  of  humus. 


XVIII.     THE  DECIDUOUS  SHRUBS  OF  THE  FARM 

"There  the  spice-bush  lifts 
Her  leafy  lances;     the  virburnum  there, 
Paler  of  foliage,  to  the  sun  holds  up 
Her  circlet  of  green  berries.     In  and  out 
The  chipping  sparrow,  in  her  coat  of  brown, 
Steals  silently,  lest  I  should  mark  her  nest." 

— Bryant  {The  Fountains). 

The  lesser  woody  plants  of  the  farm  have  not  been  held  in 
much  favor  by  the  farmer.  They  have  not  been  very  useful 
to  him,  and  they  have  tended  to  overrun  his  fence-rows,  to 
close  up  his  roadways,  and  to  fill  every  untilled  opening  in  his 
woodlot  with  unusable  and  unsalable  stuff.  Next  to  the 
trees,  they  are,  in  new  soils,  the  greatest  impediment  to 
tillage;  and  unlike  the  trees,  they  yield  no  valuable  products 
to  repay  the  labor  of  clearing  the  ground.  What  we  call 
shrubs,  the  pioneer  knew  by  the  uncomplimentary  name  of 
"brush." 

Still,  shrubs  have  many  uses,  as  every  woodsman  knows. 
An  important  use,  once  made  of  them  by  the  redmen,  is 
indicated  by  the  sirrviving  name,  arrow-woods.  Before  the 
days  of  manufactured  metal  nicknacks,  the  farmer  punched 
out  the  huge  pith  from  pieces  of  elder  and  sumac  and  made 
sap-spouts  for  his  sugar-trees ;  and  in  the  same  way  his  boys 
obtained  tubes  for  pop-guns  and  squirt-guns  and  v/histles. 
Annual  shoots  of  willow — ^willow  rods — have  long  been  and 
are  still  the  basis  of  a  great  basket  industry.  Many  clean 
growing  stems  of  shrubs  make  beautiful  walking-sticks;  but 
this  is  of  no  consequence,  since  few  members  of  our  species 
really  need  three  legs  to  walk  on.  And  there  is  one  use,  now 
almost  obsolete,  but  once  in  high  esteem — an  educational  use, 
that  was  supposed,  by  the  disciplinarians  of  the  old  school,  to 
be  ser\^ed  by  the  straight  "switches"  of  a  number  of  shrubs, 

143 


144  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

notably  of  the  hazel.  The  writer  well  recalls  a  district  school- 
room and  a  teacher's  desk  behind  which  stood  a  bunch  of 
straight  hazel  rods.  They  were  always  ready.  Their  use 
once  only  was  fip^tirativcly  described  a  a  "cup  of  hazel  tea," 
and  their  continued  use,  as  "a  course  in  sprouts". 

A  number  of  our  native  shrubs  produce  edible  \)erries,  as 
noted  in  Study  2;  such  are  currants,  gooseberries,  elder- 
berries, buffalo-berries,  nannyberries,  blueberries,  etc.  Hazels 
and  filberts  produce  fine  nuts.  The  best  of  these  edible 
products  ha\-c  been  so  much  improved  by  selection  and  care 
that  the  wild  ones  are  no  longer  of  much  importance  to  us. 
The  roots  and  bark  of  other  shrubs,  ninebark,  spicebush, 
prickly  ash,  witch-hazel,  etc.,  are  used  medicinally.  The 
wood  of  simiach  and  prickly  ash  has  ornamental  uses  because 
of  the  peculiar  yellow  color. 

But  if  of  no  great  economic  value,  these  shrubs  are  very 
interesting  to  a  naturalist.  Some  of  them,  like  the  wild  rose 
and  the  azaleas,  have  splendid  flowers,  the  flowers  of  the 
white  swamp-azalea  being  deliciously  fragrant ;  and  the  great 
clusters  of  minute  flowers  on  elders,  viburnums,  spiraeas  and 
buttonbush  are  strikingly  handsome.  Even  in  winter,  there 
is  color  in  the  bushes.  The  stems  of  the  osier  dogwood  are  of 
a  lively  red  color;  those  of  moosewood  and  the  kerrias  are 
light  green;  and  the  panicled  dog^vood  gives  to  any  bank  it 
overspreads  a  fine  soft  purple  tint.  The  persistent  fruits  of 
such  shrubs  as  snowberry  and  winterberry  add  charming 
touches  of  color  to  the  landscape  in  winter.  The  latter  is 
especially  effective  when  seen  forming  a  band  of  scarlet 
around  the  border  of  a  meadow. 

As  with  the  trees  (Study  9),  so  with  the  shrubs,  winter 
brings  the  characters  of  their  stems  into  view.  With  the  fall 
of  the  leaves,  striking  differences  in  the  twigs  appear.  They 
are  coarse  and  remote  in  sumach  and  elder  and  otliers  that 
bear  great  compound  leaves ;  they  are  slender  and  tangled  in 


DECIDUOUS  SHRUBS  OF  THE  FARM 


145 


spircea  and  blueberry  and  other  small-leaved  things.  The 
twigs  of  azalea,  witch-hazel,  the  hobble-bush,  the  spreading 
dogwood  (Cornus  alternijolia)  and  other  shrubs  of  the  shade 
tend  to  spread  in  horizontal  strata;  those  of  the  New  Jersey 
tea  and  of  willow  and  others  that  grow  in  the  sunshine,  to  rise 
erect.  Buckthorn  and  prickly  ash  and  brambles  stand  with 
all  their  naked  thominess  revealed.  There  is  the  utmost 
diversity  of  habit,  even  among  those  near  of  kin.     Among  the 


Pig.  57.  Diagram  of  the  growth  of  shrubs,  showing  annual  increments,  a,  an  old 
shoot  of  maple-leaved  viburnum,  b,  a  young  shoot  of  the  same,  c,  a  four-year-old 
shoot  of  sumac,    d,  a  two-year-old  shoot  of  black-berried  elder. 


honeysuckles  are  arrant  stragglers  {Lonicera  sulUvantii)  and 
compactly-growing  bushy  shrubs  {Lonicera  canadensis). 
Some  slirubs,  like  azaleas  and  blueberries,  attain  their  full 
stature  by  slowly -added  annual  increments,  and  others,  like 
elder,  shoot  up  stems  to  full  height  in  a  single  season.  In 
several  genera  of  shrubs,  such  as  blueben-ies  and  sumachs, 
there  are  both  giants  and  dwarfs. 

All  shrubs  are  underlings;  they  cannot  compete  with  the 
trees.  Once  in  possession  of  the  soil,  they  can  keep  trees  out 
only  by  forming  so  dense  a  shade  that  no  tree  can  get  a  start. 
Once  an  oak  or  a  maple  gets  its  head  above  the  common  level 


146 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


it  has  the  advantage  of  them,  and  can  su])j)rcss  them  with  its 
shade.  By  the  roadside  and  in  the  fence-row,  where  the 
fanner  keeps  the  trees  cut  do\\Ti,  >-et  does  not  plow,  there  they 
find  their  best  openings.  And,  indeed,  it  were  better  for  the 
farmer  to  raise  "brush"  in  his  roadside  than  to  kill  the  brush 
and  raise  weeds  there  to  contaminate  his  fields;  better  to 
cover  the  bare  and  barren  slo])e  with  soil-consen.'ing  shrub- 
bery than  to  have  its  soil  slipping  away  into  the  streams; 
better  to  fill  the  border  of  his  la^^Tl  with  these  plants  that  are 
beautiful  in  foliage  and  flower  and  fruit,  than  to  be  forever 
mowing  the  whole  of  it. 


■<:/] 


Pig.  58.     Diagram  of  buds  and  leaf  scars;    a,  in  black-berried  elder;  b,  in  ninebark; 
c.  in  red  osier  dogwood  and  d,  in  witch-hazel. 


The  thing  to  do  with  the  "brush"  is  first  of  all  to  study  it  a 
little,  and  find  out  what  it  is  good  for.  If  only  by  its  shelter 
it  pro\-ides  nesting  sites  and  keeps  some  useful  and  beautiful 
song-birds  about  the  place,  it  may  still  be  worth  while.  It 
may  also  provide  food  for  tlic  birds,  if  proper  shrubs  be 
chosen  (see  page  201).  And  if  rightly  used-if  used  in  such 
ways  and  places  as  nature's  ]:>lantings  suggest — it  adds  nuich  of 
interest  and  value  to  an\'  i)ropert}',  in  the  beauty  and  grace  of 
its  flowers  and  foliage. 


DECIDUOUS  TREES  OF  THE  FARM  147 

Study  18.     The  Deciduous  Shrubs  of  the  Farm 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  trip  for  shrubs  to  the 
places  where  they  grow  best :  borders  of  woods,  fence-rows, 
or  roadside.  A  dozen  or  more  of  the  native  species  found 
should  be  carefully  compared  as  to  characters  indicated  by 
the  headings  of  the  table  on  pages  148  and  149. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of : 

1 .  The  completed  table. 

2.  Contrasted  diagrams  of  a  few  stems  from  cliunps  of 
(a)  a  quick-growing,  and  (6)  a  slow-growing  shrub,  the  annual 
increments  of  growth  to  be  marked  with  the  years  of  their 
origin,  as  in  figure  57.  The  end  of  each  season's  growth 
is  usually  evident  by  reason  of  the  clustering  of  buds  at 
the  tip,  if  it  be  wholly  hardy,  or,  by  dead  tips  with  each 
season's  growth  starting  from  lateral  buds,  if  not  all  the 
growth  be  matured  in  any  season.  Untrimmed  wild  shrubs 
should  be  chosen  for  this. 

3.  An  annotated  list  of  all  the  wild  shrubs  found, 
arranged  in  the  order  of  their  relative  abundance  in  the 
several  situations  visited  as  follows:  a,  shrubs  of  the 
woodland  undergrowth;  6',  shrubs  of  the  waterside; 
c,  shrubs  of  the  fencerow,  and  of  other  open  sunny  places, 
etc.,  listing  thus  separately  the  shrub-associations  of  the 
more  typical  situations  visited  in  the  course  of  the  trip 
afield. 


148 


DECIDUOUS  SHRUBS 


NAME 


Height 


Annual^ 
Shoots 


Growth" 
Habit 


Grows* 
Where 


Twigs 


Diameter*    Color 


'  Maximum  growth  of  one  season  in  centimeters. 
'  Erect  or  spreading,  slender,  bushy,  etc. 
'  In  sun  or  shade,  wet  or  dry  ground,  etc. 

♦  AvernRC  diamoter  rf  an  average  twig  in  millimeters. 

•  Clustering  of  buds,  hairiness,  thorns,  etc. 


149 


OF  THE  FARM 


Buds 


Form* 


Color 


Arrangement' 


Leaf-scars^ 


REMARKS^ 


"^  Diagram. 

'^  Opposite,  alternate  or  whorled. 

»  Note  persistence  of  seed-pods,  presence  of  flower-buds,  winter-killing  of  tips,  or  other  peculiaritiei 
t  elsewhere  noted. 


XIX.     WINTER  ACTIVITIES  OF  WILD  ANIMALS 

"Of  all  beasts  he  learned  the  language, 
Learned  their  names  and  all  their  secrets, 
Jlcrw  the  beavers  built  their  lodges, 
Where  the  squirrels  hid  their  acorns, 
Ihnv  the  reindeer  ran  so  swiftly. 
Why  the  rabbit  'was  so  timid. 
Talked  with  them  whene'er  he  met  them. 
Called  them  'Hiawatha's  brothers'." 

— Longfellow  (Hiawatha's  Childhood). 

In  winter,  Nature  puts  niost  of  her  animal  population  to 
sleep.  In  lod^e  and  in  burrow  and  under  every  sort  of 
shelter,  they  hibernate.  This  saves  food  at  the  season  when 
food  is  most  scarce,  and  removes  the  less  hardy,  for  a  time, 
from  the  stress  of  competition.  Numerically,  it  is  a  very 
small  fraction  of  the  total  animal  life  that  remains  active 
during  the  winter:  only  a  few  birds  and  manmials.  Most 
birds  have  gone  far  south,  and  many  mammals  lie,  like  the 
woodchucks,  dormant  in  their  burrows.  But  more  than  we 
are  likely  to  see,  unless  we  diligently  seek  them  out,  are  active 
in  our  midst  throughout  the  season. 

After  e\'cry  snowfall,  there  is  a  new  record  made  of  the 
winter  activity  of  animals;  and  anyone,  who  knows  the  signs, 
may  read  it.  On  the  snow,  as  on  a  new  wliite  page,  each 
animal  prints  its  own  indis]>ulal)le  narrative.  Its  footprints 
tell  where  and  whence  and  how  it  ran.  The  leavings  from  its 
luncheon  tell  what  and  where  and  how  it  ate.  The  cliips 
from  its  wr.odworkings,  the  scales  froni  its  huskings,  or  the 
earth  from  its  diggings,  tell  how  and  where  and  why  it  labored. 
And  if,  by  mischance,  it  fell  a  prey  to  some  fierce  foe,  its 
blood-stained  fur  or  feathers  by  the  wayside  tell  how  its  little 
life  ended  in  a  tragedy. 

On  the  soft  snow  we  may  find  the  "signs"  of  animals  that 
we  rarely  meet.     WTiere  we  have  seen  no  rabbits,  the  brush- 

150 


WINTER  ACTIVITIES  OF  WILD  ANIMALS 


151 


wood  may  be  overrun  with  their  tracks.  Where  we  have  seen 
no  snow-birds,  the  weed  patch  may  be  littered  with  the  husks 
from  their  feeding.  If  we  are  beginners  in  woodcraft,  we  will 
need  to  see  the  animals  that  make  the  snow-records  in  order 
to  identify  them;  but  we  may  perhaps  learn  the  difference 
between  tracks  of  a  skuiik  walking  and  of  one  running  by 
trying  out  these  gaits,  and  observing  the  results,  with  the 
family  cat.     Later,  knowing  what  animals  are  to  be  expected, 


• 

• 

•  * 
• 

• 

%  • 

•  * 

• 

t 

a 

b 

Fig.  59.     Tracks  on 
the  snow  of  mam- 
mals, walking,   a, 
rabbit;   6,  skunk. 

(Drawn    from 
photographs) . 

V 

u 


mi 


0 


Fig.  60.  The  record  of  a  morning  excursion  of  a  red 
squirrel  in  search  of  a  breakfast.  Arrow  indicates  direc- 
tion taken;  h.hole  where  a  nut  was  obtained.  (Drawn 
from  a  photograph) . 


we  may  identify  some  tracks  by  exclusion  of  the  others  which 
we  have  already  learned.  If  the  only  large  birds  in  a  wood 
are  grouse  and  crows,  the  tracks  will  differ  plainly  in  the 
position  of  the  foot  and  in  the  size  of  the  print  of  the  hind  toe. 
Knowledge  of  nimiber  and  length  and  freedom  of  toes,  and 
a  knowledge  of  gaits  and  postures  of  body,  will  be  of  great 
value  in  identifying  all  tracks. 

The  * 'signs"  of  animals  that  a  woodsman  knows  are  very 
numerous:  footprints,  tail  prints,  wing  prints  (as  of  a 
strutting  turkey  gobbler;  or  the  outspread  pinions  of  a  bird 
taking  flight),  dimg,  marks  of  teeth  in  gnawings,  bark, 
scales,  chips,  borings,  diggings,  detached  feathers  and  hair 


15' 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


caught  on  thorns,  etc.  Muskrat  and  deermouse  drag  their 
tails,  lea\ing  a  groove  on  the  surface  of  the  snow  between  the 
double  line  of  foot])rints.  The  crow  drags  his  front  toe, 
leaving  a  narrow  trailing  mark  between  his  sole-i)rints. 
Tracks  are  the  signs  chiefly  used  by  the  woodsman,  and  next 
to  tracks,  are  the  c\idences  of  feeding.     Where  the  (]uadruped 

halts,  there  are  ant  to  be 
found,  gnawings  of  bark,  or 
digging  of  roots,  or  descents 
into  burrows,  or  ascents  for 
scouting.  The  woodsman  fol- 
lows the  animal's  trail,  and 
from  such  signs  as  these  reads 
his  successive  doings  like  a 
book. 

The  trails  that  birds  leave 
are  less  continuous,  because 
betimes  the  birds  betake  them- 
selves to  the  trackless  air ;  but 
in  a  wood  where  crows  feed,  one 
may  see  such  di\'erse  things  as 
the  wastage  from  their  pick- 
ings of  sumach  and  poison-ivy 
berries,  corncobs  from  ears 
brought  from  a  neighboring 
field,  leaves  of  cabbage  stolen  from  some  neighborhood  garbage 
heap,  and  fragments  of  charcoal,  which  the  crows  ha\e  picked 
from  a  burnt  stump,  perhaps  to  use  as  a  condiment,  j^crhaps 
to  improve  their  complexion.  And  the  birds  that  work  in 
the  treetops  leave  the  evidences  of  their  feeding  scattered 
about  over  the  surface  of  the  fresh  snow  beneath  the  trees. 
Much  pleasure  may  be  derived  from  obser\'ing  the  winter 
activities  of  wild  birds  near  at  hand  if  one  will  feed  them.  It 
is  easy  to  attract  them  to  feeding  places  within  view  fixmi 


t 

t 

.'^ 

4 

f 

r 

p  V 

1 

\j/ 

Pig.  61.     Bird  tracks; 
ruflfcd  grouse. 


WINTER  ACTIVITIES  OF  WILD  ANLMALS  153 

one's  \Yindow.  Some  of  the  more  familiar  little  birds,  such 
as  chickadees,  nut  hatches  and  do^vny  woodpeckers,  will 
com.e  to  the  window  ledge  for  food  in  time  of  scarcity.  The 
chief  points  to  be  observed  in  winter  feeding  of  wild  birds  are 
these : 

1 .  To  give  them  food  they  like — things  akin  to  their  natural 
diet.  Many  birds  like  the  leavings  from  our  tables — crusts 
of  bread,  scraps  of  meat,  boiled  cabbage  leaves,  bananas, 
nuts,  etc.  Suet  is  very  attractive  to  many  arboreal  birds, 
and  if  a  piece  be  tacked  to  a  convenient  tree  trunk  under  a 
piece  of  wide-meshed  wire  netting,  the  birds  can  get  it  a 
mouthful  at  a  time  and  cannot  fly  away  with  the  whole  piece 
at  once.  A  feeding  shelf  at  one's  window  should  have  a  rim 
around  it  to  prevent  the  food  from  blowing  away,  and  it  may 
with  advantage  have  a  roof  over  it  to  keep  off  the  snow. 

2.  To  place  the  food  where  birds  will  go  to  it.  Observe  their 
natural  feeding  places.  Grain  for  wild  fowl  should  be  scat- 
tered on  the  ground  in  covert  places.  Hollow  "food-sticks" 
filled  with  fat  and  nailed  up  in  the  trees  are  irresistible  to 
woodpeckers.  Sparrows  will  not  feed  upon  a  swinging  or  an 
unstable  support:  hence,  if  they  over-run  a  feeding  shelf, 
suspend  the  food  and  they  will  leave  it  to  other  birds. 

3 .  To  avoid  unnecessary  alarms.  The  sight  or  smell  of  a  cat 
will  keep  birds  away  from  one's  window.  So,  will  excess  of 
noise,  or  undue  pubHcity.  The  back  yard  is  better  than  the 
front  yard,  especially  if  fruit  trees  be  near;  and  the  feeding 
shelf  will  be  doubly  attractive  if  it  be  partially  screened  and 
sheltered  by  evergreen  boughs,  and  have  easy  approach  from 
neighboring  trees. 

At  least  one  sort  of  winter  feeding  is  of  much  practical 
importance.  Rabbits  and  mice  love  to  eat  the  green  bark  of 
young  trees ;  especially,  of  apple  trees.  They  girdle  such  trees 
and  kill  them.  So  the  careful  grower  protects  his  trees  by 
wrapping  their  trunks  with  something  inedible,  such  as  wivQ 


154  NATURAL  HISTORY   OF  THE  FARM 

cloth  or  tarred  i~)apcr.  Towards  the  end  of  winter,  one  may 
often  see  such  gnawings  on  the  bases  of  young  trees  and 
shrubs  in  the  woods.  In  maple  woods,  where  porcupines 
run,  much  bark-stripping  is  often  seen  on  young  trees. 

A  large  ]')art  of  the  joy  of  a  tram]-)  through  winter  woods  lies 
in  being  able  to  interpret  these  signs  and  to  know  what  is 
going  on.  To  a  naturaHst,  the  woods  never  seem  unin- 
habited; for  e\'ery  path  is  strewn  with  the  evidences  of  the 
work  and  the  play,  the  feasting  and  the  struggles  of  the 
creatures  that  dwell  therein. 

Study  19.    Winter  Activities  of  Wild  Animals 

This  study  is  for  the  time  when  snow  lies  an  inch  or  two 
deep  upon  the  ground,  and  one  or  more  mild  winter  nights 
have  inter\'ened  since  its  fall — such  nights  as  tempt  the 
nocturnal  mammals  to  wander  from  their  burrows.  Soft 
snow  is  necessary  for  the  making  of  distinctive  footprints. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  tramp  through  the 
woods,  studying  the  tracks  of  birds  and  mammals,  following 
up  their  trails,  deteniiining  their  direction  and  speed,  the 
cause  or  purpose  of  interruptions,  etc.;  also  obscr\4ng 
evidences  of  feeding  and  the  natm-e  of  their  food. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of  two  separate  lists, 
one  for  the  birds  and  one  for  the  animals  of  which  "signs"  are 
discovered,  with  notes  on  the  kinds  of  "signs,"  and  the  activi- 
ties indicated  by  them,  their  relative  abundance,  food,  etc. 
Both  lists  should  be  illustrated  with  simple  diagrams  of 
tracks,  with  direction  and  gait  (whether  walking  or  running) 
indicated. 


XX.     THE    FIBER    PRODUCTS    OF    THE    FARM 

"Give  me  of  your  roots,  0  Tamarack! 
Of  your  fibrous  roots,  O  Larch-Tree! 
My  canoe  to  hind  together, 
So  to  hind  the  ends  together 
That  the  water  may  not  enter. 
That  the  river  may  not  wet  me!'' 

— Longfellow  {Hiawatha's  Sailing). 

Before  the  days  of  spinning,  what  did  one  do  when  he 
needed  a  string  ?  Just  what  the  country  boy  still  does  when 
out  in  the  woods.  If  he  has  to  tie  something  and  lacks  a 
string,  he  borrows  one  from  nature.  It  may  be  a  tough  root 
of  tamarack  or  elm,  a  twig  of  leatherwood  or  willow,  a  strip  of 
willow  peel  or  of  the  inner  bark  of  basswood.  Best  of  all 
barks  is  that  of  yoimg  pawpaw  trees,  which  may  be  stripped 
upward  from  the  base  in  bark-strings  having  great  length  and 
strength  and  pliancy. 

From  using  single  strips  of  plant  tissues  such  as  these  (or 
of  more  valuable  rawhide) ,  transition  is  easy  to  the  use  of 
bundles  of  strips  for  tying.  The  harvestman  binds  his 
sheaves  with  a  band  of  grain  stems,  drawn  tightly,  the  ends 
overlapped,  twisted  together,  and  tucked  under  to  form  a 
knot.  And  if  a  mower  wishes  to  bind  up  a  large  bundle  of 
hay  with  short  grass  stems,  he  makes  a  virtue  of  necessity, 
and  twists  the  short  stems  together,  combining  them  into  a 
*'hay-rope"  of  any  desired  length,  and  binds  his  hay  with  that. 

The  hay-rope  illustrates  a  fundamental  operation  on  which 
all  textile  arts  are  based.  It  is  elemental  spinning — the 
twisting  of  fibres  together  to  combine  their  length  and 
strength. 

*Tn  Samoa,  it  is  the  work  of  women  to  make  nets  chiefly 
from  the  bark  of  the  hibiscus.  After  the  rough  outer  surface 
has  been  scraped  off  with  a  shell  on  a  board,  the  remaining 

155 


156  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

fibers  arc  t^\^stcd.  with  the  palm  of  the  liand  across  the  bare 
thi^h.  As  the  good  lady's  cord  lengthens,  she  fills  her  netting 
needle  and  works  it  into  her  net.  .  .  The  cxanij^le  of  one 
of  the  Sainoan  women  t\vistin,i(,  without  the  aid  of  a  s])indle, 
strips  of  bark  into  cord  is  as  near  to  the  invention  of  spinning 
as  we  may  hope  to  come." — Mason  (Wcyjuan^s  Share  in 
Primitive  Culture,  p.  68). 

From  the  tightly  twisted  grass  stems  of  the  hay-rope,  it  is 
not  a  long  step  to  binding-twine,  made  of  long  cleaned  bast 
fibers;  nor  thence  to  rope,  which  is  a  con^.])r)und  of  such 
twines;  nor  thence  to  cords  and  thread,  made  of  shorter, 
softer  and  finer  fibers  of  linen  and  of  cotton.  It  is  the  twisting 
that  grips  the  overlapped  fibers  together  and  holds  them  by 


Fig.  C2.    Loosely  twisted  fibers  of  coarse  twine. 

mutual  pressure.  Braiding  accomplishes  the  same  result  for 
a  few  fibers  of  uniform  size,  but  even  for  these  it  has  the  dis- 
advantage, as  compared  with  spinning,  that  it  bends  the 
fibers  more  shaq3ly,  tending  to  break  them,  and  yields  a 
flat  cord,  having  less  phancy.  Both  spinning  and  braiding 
were  practised  in  all  lands  before  the  dawn  of  history. 
Ever^n^iicre  man  had  need  of  strings,  longer  than  any  that 
nature  offered  ready-made.  He  gathered  what  he  could  find 
and  combined  them,  first  into  coarse  cordage,  strong  enough 
to  fetter  wild  beasts  or  to  bind  up  the  poles  of  his  primitive 
dwelling,  and  then  into  an  endless  variety  of  finer  products,  as 
progress  was  made  in  the  art  of  spinning. 

Sewing  threads  were  long  unspun,  and  differed  in  kinds  in 
different  parts  of  the  earth.  Horsehairs  served  our  bar- 
barian ancestors  in  Europe  for  their  sewing:  the  shredded 
sinews  of  the  deer  ser\-ed  the  Indians  of  the  northeastern 
United  States;  and  the  fibers  of  the  yucca,  those  of  the  south- 


THE  FIBER  PRODUCTS  OF  THE  FARM  157 

west.  Each  yucca  fiber  terminates  at  the  surface  of  the  leaf 
in  a  spine  which  serves  as  a  natural  needle,  permanently 
threaded;  both  horsehair  and  sinew-thread  were  thrust 
through  punctures  made  with  a  bone  awl — the  antecedent  of 
the  sewing-needle.  The  stiffness  of  these  fibres  was  therefore 
an  advantage.  Every  land  has  its  own  fiber  products,  and 
these  give  character  and  individuality  to  its  textile  arts,  not- 
withstanding that  braiding  and  spinning  are  the  same  funda- 
mental operations  everywhere. 

Simple  as  is  the  process  of  making  a  cord  from  loose  fibers, 
spinning  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  human  inventions.  Weav- 
ing, the  m.aking  of  cloth  by  the  interlacing  of  cords  thus  spun, 
is  its  complemental  art.  Spindle  and  loom  are  symbols  of 
modern  civilization ;  they  have  done  more  than  almost  any 
other  mechanical  aids,  to  change  the  conditions  of  our  living 
from  that  of  our  savage  ancestry.  Yet  spindle  and  loom  had 
humble  and  far-off  beginnings.  The  primitive  spindle  was  a 
smooth  stick  that  could  be  fastened  at  one  end  to  a  mass  of 
loose  fibers,  and  twisted  at  the  other  with  the  fingers,  winding 
the  fibers  into  a  thread  as  they  were  drawn  out  from  the  mass ; 
or  elsewhere  it  was  a  suspended  whirling  bob,  that  could  be 
set  in  motion  with  the  hand.  The  primitive  loom  was  a  low 
horizontal  bough  of  a  tree,  with  threads  of  the  warp  suspended 
from  it.  The  threads  of  the  woof  were  twined  in  and  out  by 
hand.  With  an  equipment  only  a  little  more  complicated 
than  this,  some  of  the  finest  products  of  the  world's  textile  art 
have  been  produced. 

Birds  weave  crudely,  but  they  do  not  spin.  They  accept 
from  nature  and  use  in  their  nest  building  a  great  variety  of 
fibers,  but  they  have  not  attained  to  the  art  of  lengthening 
their  cordage  by  twisting  short  fibers  together.  This  is  a 
human  art.  The  foundation  of  an  oriole's  nest  (fig.  63),  con- 
sisting of  a  few  strands  of  cordage  suspended  from  a  twig,  is 
not  far  removed,  either  in  principle  or  in  form,  from  the  warp 


158 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  I^\RM 


of  a  ])riinitivc  loom,  such  as  women  of  certain  tribes  use 
to-day.  Into  this  waq)  the  threads  of  the  woof  are  woven, 
by  the  woman  with  her  fingers  (aided,  perhaps,  by  a  crude 
wooden  shuttle) ,  by  the  bird  with  its  slender  beak.  If  anyone 
think  that  the  wca\'ing  of  the  oriole  is  not  well  done,  let  him 

sit  do^\Ti  with  an  empty 
nest  and  tr\'  to  unravel  all 
its  threads ! 

The  fiber  products  used 
by  the  oriole  are  such  as 
were  first  used  by  man  for 
textile  work — strips  of 
bark,  strands  of  bast  fibers, 
long  hairs  from  the  tails 
of  horses  and  cattle,  grass 
stems  and  leaves ;  in  short, 
an}i:hing  that  nature 
ollercd,  and  that  had 
sufficient  length,  strength 
and  pliancy.  In  our  day, 
this  bird  has  adopted  one 
of  the  products  of  our 
spindles,  cotton-wrapping 
twane,  for  the  warp  of  its 
nest,  doubtless  finding, 
just  as  we  have  found, 
that  this  is  superior  for  the  purpose  to  anything  that  nature 
offers  ready-made.  Perhaps  we  thus  repay  an  unacknow- 
ledged debt  we  may  be  owing  this  bird-weaver;  for  possibly 
some  poetic  soul  in  an  age  long  gone  may  have  watched 
an  oriole  at  his  labors,  as  Lowell  did: 

"When  oaken  woods  with  l)U(ls  are  pink, 


Pig.  63.     An   oriole   at   his    nest,  bringing   a 
thread  for  the  weaving. 


Then  from  the  honeysuckle  Rray 
The  oriole  with  experienced  quest 

Twitches  the  fibrous  bark  away 
The  cordage  of  his  hammock-nest," 


THE  FIBER  PRODUCTS  OF  THE  FARM  159 

and  may  have  taken  a  hint.  At  any  rate,  the  earUest  of 
human  textile  products  appear  to  have  been  hammocks  and 
baskets  and  coarse  bags. 

Where  did  man  find  his  first  textile  fibers?  Doubtless, 
where  the  oriole  found  his.  He  saw  the  threads  of  bast  flying 
in  the  wind  from  the  stem  of  the  tattered  roadside  reed.  H-e 
plucked  them  and  tested  them  and  looked  for  more.  He 
found  such  fibers  were  most  easily  separable  from  the  stems 
that  had  lain  rotting  in  the  pool.  So  he  took  the  hint,  and 
threw  other  stems  into  the  water  to  rot  and  yield  their  fiber. 
So  he  continues  to  do,  even  to  this  day.  He  immerses  his 
flax  stems  to  dissolve  the  plant  gums  that  hold  the  fiber  and 
the  wood  together;  and  after  a  week  or  two  of  soaking  and 
softening,  he  removes  them  from  the  water,  "breaks"  them, 
"scutches"  them  to  remove  the  broken  bits  of  woody  stem, 
"hackles"  them  to  separate  (by  a  combing  process)  the 
"tow"  from  the  long,  clean  fiber,  which  is  then  available 
for  spinning  into  linen  thread  and  for  wea\dng  into  cloth. 

By  similar  treatment,  bast  fiber  is  obtained  from  hemp 
and  jute  and  other  plants  having  annual  stems.  Wild 
"Indian  hemp"  or  dogbane  (Apocynum  cannahinnm)  fur- 
nished bast  fiber  to  the  aborigines  in  the  northeastern  United 
States  before  the  coming  of  the  white  man.  Other  wild 
plants  having  good  bast  fibers  are  swamp  millcweed  {Asclepias 
incarnatd),  marshmallow  {Hibiscus  moscheutos),  stamp- 
weed  (Abutilon  avicenncE),  nettle  (Urtica  gracilis),  burdock 
{Arctium  lappa),  sunflower  {Helianthus  annuus),  etc.  Many 
other  plants  produce  good  bast  fibers,  which  vary  much  in 
length,  strength,  ease  of  separation  and  adaptability  to 
manufacture.  We  have  learned  how  to  handle  profitably  a 
very  few  products  among  the  many  that  nature  offers. 

This  is  even  more  true  of  the  cottons,  which  grow  as  single- 
celled  fibers  upon  the  surfaces  of  seeds.  One  species  only 
we  have  learned  to  spin,  tho  we  know  many  others,  such  as 


l6o 


NATURAL  HISTORY  UP  THE  FARM 


"^If^ 


Fig.  64.     Cotton-bearing  seeds   issuing  from  milk- 
weed pods. 


Cottonwood,  thistle 
and  milkweed,  produc- 
ing fibcT  abundantly. 

The  fiber  products 
of  the  world's  fanns 
are  exceeded  in  value 
only  b>'  the  food  pro- 
ducts. The  chief  ani- 
mal fibers  are,  in  the 
order  of  value,  wool, 
silk  and  hair:  the 
chief  plant  fibers  are 
cotton,  flax  and  hemp. 
None  of  the  plants  or 
anhnals  concerned  is 
native     to     our    soil. 

We  have  not  found  out  how  to  use  any  of  the  native  fiber 
products  with  profit.  In  this,  as  in  so  many  other  fields, 
the  great  discoveries  of  nature's  material  resources  were 
made  by  our  forefathers  in  other  lands  and  in  a  far  distant 
age,  antedating  history. 

The  chief  use  for  fiber  products  is  found  in  the  making  of 
textiles.  After  feeding  people,  the  next  sure  good,  accord- 
ing to  Ruskin,  is  in  clothing  people;  and  this  demands  great 
quantities  of  textiles.  The  kinky  fibers  of  wool  lend  them- 
selves ideally  to  the  spinning  process.  They  will  hang 
together  in  simple  yams  which  may  be  knit  or  wo\'en  into 
wann  clothing  for  cold  climates.  The  soft  fibers  of  linen 
make  clothing  that  is  cool  and  that  may  readily  be  kept 
clean  for  sun.mer  use.  The  shorter  and  finer  fibers  of  cotton, 
being  produce  d  in  greatest  abundance,  make  the  cheai^est  of 
clothing  and  are  used  in  the  greatest  variet}'  of  ^^•a^•s,  alone 
and  in  combination  with  wool,  flax  and  silk. 


THE  FIBER  PRODUCTS  OF  THE  FARM  i6i 

Next  in  importance  is  the  making  of  cordage.  Ropes  and 
the  coarser  twines  consume  the  longest  and  strongest  of  the 
fiber  products,  such  as  manila  and  sisal;  and  silk  fibers  are 
used  to  make  the  finest  fishing-lines. 

Next  in  importance  are,  probably,  upholstering  and 
stuffing  fibers.  Fibers  for  this  use  are  such  as  do  not  lend 
themselves  readily  to  the  spinning  process:  horsehair, 
"Spanish  moss"  fiber,  kapok,  "tow"  (separated  in  the  hack- 
ling of  flag  from  the  better  fiber) ,  etc.  The  long,  silky  cotton 
of  our  common  milkweeds,  often  used  for  filling  fancy  pillows, 
is  an  excellent  example.  Its  fiber  is  too  smooth  and  straight 
and  brittle  for  spinning,  but  its  lightness  and  elasticit}'  make 
it  excellent  for  filling  pillows. 

Another  extensive  use  for  fibers  is  found  in  the  binding  of 
plastering  and  mortar.  Of  old,  straw  was  used  in  the  making 
of  huge  bricks,  to  bind  the  clay  and  preserve  their  form  while 
drying.  On  many  cabins  in  the  South  today,  there  are 
stick-chimneys  plastered  with  clay  that  is  held  together 
by  "Spanish  moss"  fiber.  The  moss  is  fermented  in  heaps  to 
lay  bare  the  fiber,  which  is  then  washed  clean  and  chopped  in 
short  lengths  and  kneaded  into  the  clay  before  being  applied  to 
the  inner  walls  of  the  chimney.  The  moss  fiber  helps  to  hold 
the  clay  in  place  when  it  is  newly  applied,  and  prevents  its 
cracking  later.  For  like  reasons,  cow-hair  (which  is  too  short 
and  smooth  for  spinning)  is  commonly  mixed  with  the 
"binding"  coat  of  plaster  that  is  first  applied  to  the  walls  of 
our  houses.  The  hair  is  cleansed  of  grease  and  evenly  mixed 
with  the  mortar  in  such  quantity  that  when  the  latter  is 
lifted  on  a  trowel,  some  of  it  will  hang  over  the  edges  without 
falling  off.  Wood  fiber  is  substituted  for  hair  in  some  modem 
ready-mixed  plasters.  Short,  straight  and  strong  fibers,  to 
which  plaster  will  adhere  closely,  are  demanded  for  this  use. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  how  the  birds  have  anticipated  us 
in  all  these  uses  of  fibers.     The  oriole  uses  the  longest  fibers 


i62  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

it  can  find  for  cordage.  Many  birds  weave  shorter  fibers  into 
the  walls  of  their  nests.  Most  birds  find  suital)le  upholster- 
ing fibers  for  nisliioning  the  eggs —horsehair  or  feathers  or 
thistledown.  And  the  robin  mixes  grass  blades  and  bast 
fibers  with  the  cla>'  out  of  which  he  builds  his  nuid  nt'st.  The 
birds  know  how  to  find  ]>r()])er  raw  material  in  great  variety. 
Let  us  in  the  following  stud}'  examine  some  of  these  un- 
developed fiber  resources. 

Study  20.     Native  fiber  products 

This  is  a  study  for  the  day  when  the  weather  is  most  un- 
favorable for  field  work ;  when  the  cold  is  too  bitter  or  the 
blast  too  fierce  for  prolonged  work  outdoors.  Then,  certain 
fiber  products  may  be  gathered  quickly  and  taken  inside  for 
examination;  but  a  satisfactory  range  of  materials  for  this 
work  ma>'  be  had  only  b}-  gathering  some  of  them  in  advance. 

1.  Nests  of  birds,  especially  of  Baltimore  orioles.  These 
nests  are  easy  to  find  in  winter,  being  suspended  conspicu- 
ously from  elm  boughs  high  above  the  roads,  but  they  are  not 
easy  to  reach.  The  twigs  bearing  them  may  be  clipped  off 
with  a  long-handled  pruner. 

2 .  Nests  of  mice,  especially  of  deer  mice.  These  are  built 
in  the  branches  of  bushes  in  the  woods. 

3.  Cotton-bearing  seeds  of  milkweed,  etc.,  should  be 
gathered  in  autiunn  at  the  ripening  of  their  pods. 

4.  Herbaceous  stems  may  be  gathered  for  their  bast  fiber 
at  any  time  after  maturing,  and  some,  such  as  dogljane  and 
milk-Avced,  shotild  be  gathered  as  a  part  of  this  exercise;  but 
in  order  to  obtain  the  bast  readih',  the  stems  should  have  been 
gathered  earlier  and  "retted"  for  a  week  or  more  (:is  neces- 
sary, according  to  species)  in  water. 

5.  Coarser  fibrous  materials  in  variety.  The  bast  strips 
of  linden  are  obtained  by  stri])])ing  the  bark  from  young 
trees  in  midsummer,  when  full  of  sap,  and  drying  it  thor- 


THE  FIBER  PRODUCTS  OF  THE  FARM  163 

oughly.  Thereafter,  at  any  time  after  soaking  in  water,  the 
soft  inner  strands  separate  readily.  Another  fiber  of  unique 
sort  is  found  in  the  skeleton  cords  of  the  rootstock  of  bracken 
fern.  These  may  be  separated  from  freshly  dug  rhizomes,  by 
breaking  with  a  hammer  and  stripping  the  cords  clean. 
The  program  of  work  for  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1 .  An  examination  of  the  fibers  used  in  the  nest-building 
of  birds  and  animals. 

2.  An  examination  of  the  fiber  products  collected  and 
prepared  from  native  plants  and  animals,  and  comparisons 
with  the  fibers  that  are  used  in  staple  commercial  products, 
such  as  ropes,  yams  and  twines.  The  actual  use  of  some  of 
these  fiber  products  in  spinning  and  weaving  may  be  demon- 
strated, preferably  with  the  simplest  forms  of  apparatus, 
and  products  made  therefrom  may  be  shown. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1 .  Notes  on  the  kinds  and  character,  and  diagrams  of  the 
use,  of  fibers  used  by  birds  and  animals  in  nest-building. 
Each  species  of  bird  or  animal  should  be  treated  separately. 

2 .  An  annotated  list  of  all  the  native  fibers  studied.  The 
notes  should  state  the  source  and  nature  of  the  fibers,  their 
length,  strength  and  other  qualities,  their  uses  and  limita- 
tions, etc. 

Another  study  on  the  coarse  unspun  materials  for  Plaiting, 
Mat-making  and  Basketry,  may  be  made  on  similar  lines,  with 
similar  lists  of  materials  for  its  record.  The  things  needed 
for  this  will  be  splints,  withes,  rods,  reeds,  sweet-grass, 
rushes,  corn-husks,  quills,  thongs,  etc.  Suggestions  may  be 
had  from  the  study  of  nests  of  birds  and  animals,  and  of  the 
primitive  products  of  the  Indians  of  our  own  region.  On 
the  latter,  The  Handbook  of  North  American  Indians  edited 
by  Dr.  F.  W.  Hodge  {Bull,  jo,  Bureau  of  Amer.  Ethnology, 
2  vols.     Washington,  igi2)  is  a  mine  of  information. 


XXI.     THE   ICE-COAT  ON   Till-:   TREES 

"First  there  came  do'cti  a  thawing  rain 
And  its  dull  drops  froze  on  the  bouf^hs  again; 
Then  there  steamed  up  a  freezing  dew 
Which  to  the  drops  of  the  thaw-rain  gre^c; 

And  a  northern  whirlwind,  wandering  about 
Like  a  wolf  that  had  smelt  a  dead  child  out, 
Shook  the  boughs  thus  laden  and  heavy  and  stiff, 
And  snapped  them  off  with  his  rigid  griff." 

—Shelley  (The  Sensitive  Plant). 

Winter  imposes  some  hard  conditions  u]:)on  tree  life.  In 
the  "frozen  north"  there  are  no  trees;  and  in  our  tem]jerate 
clime  there  are  only  those  that  are  able  to  withstand  a  long 
period  of  inactivity,  a  succession  of  freezings  and  thawings, 
and  the  hea\-y  mechanical  stresses  im])osed  by  high  winds 
and  snow  and  ice.  The  majority  of  our  woody  plants  have 
met  the  difficulties  of  the  situation  by  dropping  their  leaves 
on  the  approach  of  winter.  Most  of  the  tall  conifers  have 
adjusted  themselves  to  bear  winter's  white  burden.  While 
retaining  their  leaves,  the\'  spread  their  branches  horizontally 
in  whorls  around  a  single  ax'.s,  and  when  the  snow  bends 
theni,  the  higher  branches  rest  u])on  the  lower  from  top  to 
bottom  in  mutual  support.  As  Jolm  Burroughs  poetically 
puts  il,  "The  white  pine  and  all  its  tribe  look  winter  cheerily 
in  the  face,  tossing  the  snow,  masquerading  in  arctic  liver}',  in 
fact,  holding  high  carnival  from  fall  to  spring." 

The  severest  test  of  the  strength  of  a  tree  comes  not  from 
snow,  but  from  ice;  it  comes  not  when  the  weather  is  coldest, 
but  when  there  has  been  a  thaw,  and  the  thennometer  is 
hovering  around  the  freezing  ])oint.  When  the  air  is  full  of 
moisture,  and  the  trees  have  been  suddenly  cooled  by  radia- 
tion, the  water  freezes  to  them,  completely  encasing  them  in 
ice.     This  usually  happens  toward  nightfall;   and  if  it  con- 

164 


THE  ICE-COAT  ON  THE  TREES  165 

tinues  long,  the  morning  light  discloses  scenes  of  marvelous 
beauty.  The  orchard  has  become  a  veritable  fairyland. 
Each  slender  stem  is  a  column  of  crystal  on  which,  at  every 
bud  and  angle,  is  a  prism  dispensing  rainbow  colors.  The 
drooping  ice-encrusted  sprays  are  like  wreaths  of  sparkling 
jewels,  and  all  the  world  is  a-glitter  with  innumerable  points 
of  light. 

But  this  brilliant  display  is  a  heavy  btirdcn  on  the  trees; 
the  stout  twigs  of  sumach  and  elder  bear  it  easily,  but  the 
slender  twigs  of  birch  and  willow  are  bent  prone,  and  matted 
together  in  a  network  of  ice.  Boughs,  rightly  placed  for 
mutual  support,  become  welded  together  by  a  common 
incrustation;  but  unsupported  boughs  are  often  broken  by 
the  sheer  weight  of  the  ice.  And  if  to  this  burden,  there  be 
added  the  stress  of  rising  winds,  then  great  havoc  may  be 
wrought  in  the  woods. 

The  thickness  of  the  ice  covering  the  stems  is  much  affected 
by  their  character  and  position.  Since  the  water  condenses 
upon  them  and  tends  to  gather  in  drops  before  it  freezes, 
smooth  erect  stems  gather  less  ice  because  the  water  slips 
away  from  them ;  while  rough  or  horizontal  stems  acquire  a 
thicker  crust,  and  every  downwardly  directed  point  or  angle 
is  tipped  with  an  icicle.  Thus  Roberts  might  write  in  his 
"Silver  Show": 

"The  silvered  saplings  bending 
Flashed  in  a  rain  of  gems     .     .     . 

And  amethysts  and  rubies 

Adorned  the  bramble  stems." 

Slender  twigs  are  usually  tough  and  pliant  and  not  easily 
broken:  moreover  they  grow  densely,  and  being  more  or 
less  interlaced,  they  lend  each  other  mutual  support.  The 
hedge  becomes  one  long  fenestrated  wall  of  cry^stal,  the  twigs 
being  encased  and  conjoined  with  ice  in  all  directions.  So 
joined,  the  ice  supports  the  twigs;  and  not  the  twigs,  the  ice. 


t66  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 

Since  tha\\-ing  begins  at  the  top  and  liberates  first  the  upper 
branches,  little  damage  results  unless  winds  arise  to  break  the 
ico-supports.  Yet  the  smallest  of  the  woody  plants,  e\'cn 
those  slender  supple  things,  that  may  lie  prone  under  such  a 
burden  and  rise  again  afterward  unharmed,  are  imperiled  by 
the  ice;  for  a  passing  foot  may  snap  their  stems  when  ice 
laden,  instead  of  brushing  them  aside. 

Fortunately,  the  ice-coat,  th<:)  it  docs  niuch  damage,  always 
confers  some  benefits  on  the  trees.  It  ]:)i-unes  them  of  dead 
branches.  Rotting  of  the  trunk  begins  wherever  a  dead 
branch  persists  too  long.  The  ice  greatly  aids  in  their 
removal. 

Study  21.     Observations  on  the  Ice-coat  and  Its  Effects 

This  is  a  study  to  be  made  only  when  nature  prepares  the 
conditions.  The  ice-coat  on  the  trees  comes  unannounced, 
and  is  often  very  transient:  sometimes  an  hour's  sunshine 
will  dispel  it.  Sieze  the  opportunity,  therefore,  when  it 
comes,  shifting  other  studies  if  need  be.  The  equipment 
needed  will  be  a  few  pocket  scales  (spring  balances)  and  some 
means  of  melting  ice  quickly,  preferably  a  blow  torch. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  obscr\^ations  on  the 
thickness,  weight  and  distribution  of  the  ice,  and  of  its  effects 
on  trees  and  shrubs  of  different  sorts.  Measurements  should 
be  made  of  its  thickness.  Branches  should  be  weighed,  first 
laden  with  ice  and  again  after  the  ice  has  been  removed,  to 
determine  the  load  that  the  ice  imposes.  If  a  recent  snow- 
fall cover  the  ground  so  that  newly  fallen  twigs  can  be  noted, 
gather  the  twigs  under  different  kinds  of  trees,  and  note  the 
relati\-e  niui .her  of  dead  and  living,  and  which  sorts  of  woody 
plants  are  niost  aiTccted. 

The  record  of  this  study  must  be  made  up  in  part  to  suit 
the  conditions  obtaining.  If  the  ice  be  heavy  or  wind  arise 
while  it  is  on,  the  breakage  of  the  trees  should  be  recorded. 


THE  ICE-COAT  ON  THE  TREES  167 

In  any  event,  the  results  of  the  weighings  and  measurements 
above  mentioned  should  be  included  and  the  beneficial  effects 
in  pruning  of  dead  branches  and  twigs,  and  the  harmful 
effects  of  breakage  of  twigs  on  trees  of  different  sorts,  should 
be  recorded. 

Specific  assignments  of  work  to  be  done  is,  therefore,  left  to 
the  instructor. 

An  additional  study  on  The  Snow-Coat  of  the  Trees  may  be 
made  inxmediately  after  the  fall  of  a  soft  heavy  snow,  before 
it  is  disturbed 'by  either  wind  or  sun.  Many  of  the  same 
phenomena  noted  in  the  preceding  outline  will  be  obser\^able. 
There  will  be  little  damage  to  the  trees  obserA^ed;  for  the 
snow,  loosely  piled,  is  easily  dislodged.  It  is  heaped  up  on 
every  possible  support,  and  the  dift'erences  in  the  aspect  of 
the  trees  is  due  to  the  differences  in  the  nature  of  the  support 
for  the  snow  that  they  offer.  Horizontal  boughs  are  con- 
tinuously robed  in  white ;  erect  boughs  bear  segregated  snow 
masses  in  their  forks.  Every  stub  and  angle  and  bud  is  snow- 
capped. Little  hillocks  of  snow  rest  upon  the  upturned  fruit 
clusters  of  stmiach  and  wild  cari'ot,  and  equally  upon 
the  pendent  clusters  of  ninebarks  and  mountain  ash.  The 
bushy  crown  of  close-growing  shrubs  are  wholly  enveloped  in 
a  meshwork  of  white ;  so,  also,  are  the  interlacing  sprays  of 
witch-hazel  and  spreading  dogwood.  Great  masses  of  white 
rest  upon  the  decHning  boughs  of  hemlocks  and  other  ever- 
greens; and  each  of  these  masses  in  the  spruce  tenninates  in 
blunt  finger-lil<:e  processes,  and  looks  like  a  great  clumsy  glove 
backed  with  ermine.  The  color  contrasts  which  the  snow 
makes  with  the  dark  boughs  of  the  oaks,  with  the  red  t^vigs 
of  the  osier  dogwoods,  and  with  the  scarlet  fruit  of  bar- 
berries, are  charming.  Observing  and  recording  such  things 
as  these  is  a  pleasant  occupation  for  a  stiU  winter  morning  fol- 
lowing a  snowfall,  when  the  out-of-doors  is  like  a  fair}-  land. 


XXil.     MAPLE    SAP  AXD   SUGAR 

"/  wonder  if  the  sap  is  stirring  yet, 
If  wintry  birds  are  dreaming  of  a  mate, 
If  frozen  snowdrops  feel  as  yet  the  sun 
And  crocus  fires  are  kindling  one  by  one: 

Sing,  robin,  sing; 
I  still  am  sore  in  doubt  concerning  Spring". 

— Christina  C.  Rossetti  (The  First  Spring  Day). 

When  our  forefathers  came  to  America,  they  found  one 
branch  of  the  \A'orld's  sugar  industr\^  indigenous  here.  The 
making  of  both  s>Tup  and  sugar  from  the  sap  of  the  maple 
tree  had  been  practiced  from  tixae  immemorial  by  the  Indians. 
Maple  sugar  was  the  coinmonest  delicacy  in  their  rather  plain 
and  unattractive  bill  of  fare.  It  appealed  to  the  white  man's 
palate,  and,  after  furs  and  com,  it  becajne  one  of  the  common- 
est articles  of  barter  and  of  commerce.  It  was  especially 
im]X)rt<ant  to  the  early  white  traders  along  the  St.  Lawrence 
river,  for  that  stream  traverses  the  heart  of  the  maple  sugar 
region.  The  white  man  learned  to  make  it,  and  soon  it  was 
used  in  all  the  households  of  the  pioneers.  In  the  north- 
eastern part  of  the  United  States  and  in  adjacent  portions  of 
Canada,  maple  sugar  was  for  several  generations  the  only 
sugar  to  be  had. 

Tlie  ab(jriginal  sugar-maker  cut  a  hole  through  the  bark  of 
the  maple  tree,  and  collected  the  sweet  sap  that  flowed  there- 
frona  in  vessels  made  of  bark.  Then  he  separated  the  water 
from  the  sugar,  in  part  by  freezing  (removing  the  cakes  of  ice 
that  formed  on  the  surface  of  the  vessel),  and  in  part  by 
evaporation.  His  methods  were  crude,  and  his  product  was 
dark  colored  and  dirt}-;  but  it  was  sweet  and  wholesome. 
The  dirt  it  contained  was  mostly  clean  dirt— bits  of  bark  and 
chips  and  insects  that  fell  into  the  sap,  extracts  from  the  bark 
containers,  and  decomposition  products  of  the  sugar  itself. 

i68 


MAPLE  SAP  AND  SUGAR 


169 


Fig.  65.  A  sap-sucker 
on  a  tree  trunk,  mak- 
ing lines  of  perfora- 
tions. 


Before  the  Indians,  there  were  many  animals  that  had  dis- 
covered the  springtime  sugar  supply  of  the  maple  trees :  sap- 
suckers,  that  tap  the  trunlcs  in  the  neatest 
and  most  methodical  and  least  injurious 
way  imaginable  (fig.  65);  and  porcupines, 
that  strip  the  bark  disastrously  from  young 
trees,  killing  them  outright;  and  red 
squirrels,  that  gnaw  little  basins  in  the 
upper  surface  of  horizontal  boughs  and, 
when  these  fill  with  the  sap,  come  to  the 
basins  for  a  soft  drink  (fig.  66).  And 
when  these  larger  creatures  set  the  sap 
flowing,  there  are  innumerable  lesser 
creattires,  mostly  flies  and  beetles,  that  come  in  swarms  to 
be  partakers  with  them. 

This  store  of  sweets  is  the  accumulated  food  reser\^e  of  the 
preceding  season.  It  is  stored  as  starch  when  the  leaves  are 
active,  to  be  transformed  into  sugar  and  dissolved  in  the 
sap  in  early  spring.  When,  at  the  approach  of  warmer 
weather  in  February  and  March,  the  days  are  warm  and 
bright  and  the  nights  clear  and  frosty,  changes  of  pressure 
in  the  vessels  of  the  trees,  due  to  the  great  diurnal  changes 

of  temperature,  

set  the  sap  flow- 
ing. 

The  warm 
sunshine  on  the 
treetops  ex- 
pand the  air  in 
the  trunks  and 
increases  the 
internal  pres- 
sure    so     that 

f-rrim    omr  i-n^ic-  ^^^-  ^6.     A  Squirrel  drinking  sap  as  it  exudes  from  am 

irom   any  mClS-  bough  (after  Cram). 


170  NATURAL   HISTORY   UF  THE   FARM 

ion     made     tlirough    the     Ixirk,     from     every     wound    or 
broken  twig,    the    sap    flows  copiously.      It  flows  first  on 
the  sor.lh  side   of  the  tree,  where  the  sun  shines,   and  it 
flows  most  cojiiously  during  the  warmer   part  of  the  day. 
It  ceases  at  night  when  the    treetop    is   cooled   and    the 
pressure   equalized.       It    slackens    on    cloud}'    da>'s,    and 
ceases  altogether  wlien  the  ground  gets  warmer.     The  1<  )Tiger 
the  period  of  alternating  bright  sunshiny  da\-s  and  sharp 
frosty  nights,  the  greater  the  amount  of   sap   obtainable. 
Tiie  greater,  also,  is  the  drain  of  the  food  reser\'e  of  the 
tree :     but  the  provident  maples  store  more  than  they  need, 
and  they  are  not  injured  by  the  loss  of  such  aj.ounts  as  may 
be  obtained  by  proper  tapping.    They  often  ha\'e  to  meet  such 
losses  tlirough  natural  causes — such  as  the  tappings  of  the  sap- 
suckers,  and  the  "bleeding"  from  the  stubs  of  broken  boughs. 
Other  deciduous  woody  plants  lose  their  sap  in  similar 
ways.     Every  vine-grower  knows  that  grape  vines,  trbnmed 
at  the  time  of  abundant  sap-flow,  "bleed"  profusely  from  the 
base  of  ever>^  branch  removed — so  profusely,  indeed,  that  the 
plant  may  be  wealvcned  by  such  inopportune  treatment.    Ash 
and  elm  and  beech  and  butternut  and  other  deciduous  trees 
will  yield  sap  in  its  season,  but  only  a  few  of  the  maples  >deld 
a  sap  tliat  is  sufhcient  in  quantity,  rich  enough  in  sugar,  and 
sufliciently  well  flavored  to  be  important  to  us.     The  sugar 
maple  is  the  best  maple,  both  in  yield  and  in  quality  of 
product:     a  variety  of  it  known  as  the  black  maple,  is 
especially   esteemed   by   many   growers.      Red   and   silver 
maples  yield  a  copious,  but  more  watery  sap.     The  Oregon 
maple  is  a  western  species  from  which  a  little  sugar  is  made. 
The  yield  of  the  lesser  maples  and  of  the  related  box-elders  is 
of  no  consequence.     Most  tree-saps,  on  evaporation,  will 
yield  some  sort  of  a  sweetish  treacle;    but  only  the  maples 
yield  palatable  syrups  and  sugars,  whose  fla\'or  is  improved 
by  the  non-sugar>'  natural  substances  present  in  the  sap. 


MAPLE  SAP  AND  SUG.AR 


171 


The  tapping  of  a  maple  tree,  besides  draining  it  of  sap, 
leaves  an  open  wound  in  its  trunk.     It  is  essential  to  the 
continued  welfare  of  the  tree  that  the  tapping  be  done  so  as  to 
expose  the  interior  as  little  as  need  be  to  the  attack  of  fungi 
and  insects.     A  small  hole,  that  will  heal  over  completely  in  a 
single  season,   is  usually  no  more '  injurious  than  are  the 
perforations  of  the   sapsuckers.     Such  a  hole  is  no\vadays 
bored  in  the  trunk  with  a  sharp  bit. 
It  is  slanted  slightly  upward,  for  easy 
drainage.     It  is  bored  through  the  sap- 
wood  only,   since  the  sap-flow  comes 
from  the  outer  laA'ers  and  not  from  the 
heartwood.      A  galvanized  iron   sap- 
spout,  having  a  hook  to  carry  a  pail, 
is  driven  into  the  hole  and  left  there 
during  the  sap-gathering  season.     The 
sap  collected  is  freed  of  its.  water  by 
evaporation,     and    freed    of    various 
undesirable  products  by  skimming  the 
surface  as  they  are  raised  by  boiling. 
The  owner  of  a  "sugar  bush"  performs 
these  operations  in  the  great  furnace- 
heated     evaporating     pans      of     his 
sugar  house.     The  small  boy  does  them  on  his  mother's 
kitchen  range;     and  if  he  knows  the  traditions  of  the  sugar- 
camp,  he  is  sure  to  try  pouring  some  of  his  syrup,  when  it  is 
thickening  into  sugar,  out  in  Httle  driblets  upon  the  surface  of 
clean  snow,  where  it  will  harden  into  that  most  delicious  con- 
fection known  to  the  initiated  as  ''maple  wax." 

We  live  in  a  day  of  abtmdant  sweets.  Nature  has  always 
produced  sugars  in  the  juices  of  many  plants,  but  we  have 
only  recently  learned  how  to  obtain  them  in  quantity  and 
how  to  purify  them  and  prepare  them  for  keeping  and  for  use. 
New  methods   of  manufacture   and   refining,    and   added 


Fig.  67.  Diagram  to  illus- 
trate proper  tapping  of  a 
maple  tree,  a,  sap  spout 
or  "  spile , "  in  an  augur  hole , 
and  supporting  a  pail; 
b,  bark.  The  sap  wood  is 
white,  the  heart  wood  is 
shaded. 


172  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE   FARM 

sources  of  suppl>',  liavc  cnonnously  increased  and  chea[)ened 
the  product,  and  what  was  but  recently  a  luxury  in  diet  has 
become  a  necessity.  The  su^ar  increase  has  all  come  from 
herbaceous  plants,  that  may  be  quickly  growTi— mainly  sugar 
cane  and  sugar  beets.  Doubtless  these  have  permanently 
occupied  the  field  and  maple  sugar  and  syrup  will  never  again 
be  staple  products.  Once  they  were  groceries:  now  they 
are  confections. 

Sugar-making  has  gone  the  way  of  all  the  home  industries, 
and  it  is  hard  for  the  youth  of  to-day  to  realize  with  what  keen 
interest  and  enthusiasm,  all  members  of  the  household, 
entered  into  the  operations  of  the  sugar  camp*.  We  know 
the  sugar  maple  mainly  as  a  shade  tree,  long-lived,  hardy, 
clean,  strong-gro^vdng,  with  beautiful  hesL\y  foliage.  But  the 
pioneer  and  the  red  man  knew  it  as  the  source  of  his  chief 
deHcacies.  Bound  up  with  it  are  many  fine  traditions,  both 
of  our  own  race,  and  of  our  predecessors  on  this  continent. 
If  we  could  realize  the  poverty  of  sweets  in  the  Indians*  bill 
of  fare,  then  we  might  understand  why  he  counted  the  sugar 
maple  one  of  the  good  gifts  of  the  Great  Spirit  to  his  people; 
why  he  reverenced  it  and  made  it  an  object  of  his  simple 
nature-worship. 

Study  22.     The  Sap-flow  and  Its  Beneficiaries 

There  is  but  a  short  time  at  the  very  beginning  of  spring, 
when  nights  are  sharp  and  frosty  and  da\-s  briglit  and  sun- 
shiny, that  an  abundant  flow  of  sap  may  be  obtained  from  the 
trees.     Take  advantage  of  it,  shifting  other  stuches  if  need  be. 

The  tools  needed  for  the  work  will  be  a  sharp  half-inch  bit 
and  brace  for  tapping  trees,  a  supply  of  galvanized  metal  sap- 
spouts  to  fit  holes,  and  of  pails  (paraffined  paper  pails  will  do, 

♦Some  suggestion  c)f  it  may  I'C  ()l)tained  by  reading  Mrs.  Comstock's 
excellent  account  ot  maple-sugar  making  in  her  Handbook  of  Nature- 
Study,  pp.  7  39-7-\i- 


MAPLE  SAP  AND  SUGAR  173 

if  water  tight)  to  hang  on  the  spouts  and  receive  the  sap; 
also  a  cyanide  bottle  (see  p.  217):  these  tools  are  mainly  for 
comjnon  use.  Also  little  individual  tin  spoons  or  straws 
for  use  in  tasting  sap. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of: 

1 .  Tapping  trees.  Bore  the  holes  with  inclination  slightly 
upward  until  heartwood  appears  in  the  chips.  Tap  all  the 
different  maples  available  and  a  few  other  trees  as  well,  and 
collect  and  taste  their  saps.  Tap  one  tree  on  north  and  south 
sides  and  compare  sap-flow.  Tap  other  trees  with  one  hole 
only. 

2.  Observing  sap-flow  from  natural  wounds,  from  tap- 
pings of  birds,  from  gnawings  of  animals  and  from  broken 
green  boughs  and  twigs. 

3 .  Observing  the  animals  that  take  advantage  of  the  sap- 
flow.  Birds  and  animals  may  be  seen  feeding  at  their  own 
tappings.  If  there  be  snow  on  the  ground,  the  tracks  of 
animals  about  the  places  where  sap  flows  down  the  trunks  to 
the  ground  will  tell  of  nocturnal  visitors  that  have  a  "sweet 
tooth."  Insects  will  be  found  swarming  in  the  sunshine  to 
every  flowing  wound:  bees  and  flies  and  beetles  of  many 
sorts.     These  may  be  picked  up  in  a  cyanide  bottle. 

The  gathering  of  the  sap  from  the  pails  during  the  entire 
period  of  flow,  and  the  evaporation  of  it,  are  tasks  too  pro- 
longed for  a  class  exercise,  and  shotdd  be  arranged  for  b}^  the 
instructor.  The  making  of  S3^rup  or  sugar  from  the  sap  is 
accomplished  by  boiling  to  evaporate  the  excess  water  and 
skimming  to  remove  floating  impurities,  and  may  be  done 
indoors  or  out,  and  in  amounts  large  or  small  by  an^^one. 
For  syrup,  the  sap  should  boil  until  a  thermometer  immersed 
in  it  (not  touching  the  sides  or  bottom)  registers  219  degrees 
Farenheit;  for  sugar,  until  it  registers  238  to  240  degrees. 
After  reaching  this  temperature,  the  fluid  sugar  should  be 


174 


NATURAL  inSTORV  OF  THE   FARM 


removctl  from  the  fire,  stirrcMl  for  a  tune  to  secure  unifomiity 
of  graTiulation.  and  then  poured  into  sniall  moulds  of  an>'  sort, 
paper  or  tin,  to  harden.  No  su^^j^estions  as  to  the  disposition 
of  the  product  will  be  needed. 

The  record  of  lliis  study  ma}'  consist  of : 

1.  A  diai^-ani  of  the  apj^iratus  in  place  in  a  tree  that  is 
properly  tapped,  with  ex])lanations. 

2.  Notes  on  the  sap  of  the  various  trees  tested,  as  to  its 
quality  and  abundance. 

3.  Lists  of  the  animals  attracted  by  the  sap-flow;  with 
notes  on  their  abundance,  and  their  times  and  manner  and 
place  of  feeding. 


"Strong  as  the  sea  and  silent  as  the  grave  it  ebbs  and  flows  unseen; 
Flooding  the  earth, — a  fragrant  tidal  wave,  with  mists  of  deepening 
green." — John  B.  Tahb. 


XXIII.     NATURE'S  SOIL-CONSERVING 
OPERATIONS 

'* Behold  this  compost!     behold  it  well! 
Perhaps  every  mite  has  once  formed  part  of  a  sick  person — yet  behold! 
The  grass  of  spring  covers  the  prairies.     .     . 
The  summer  growth  is  innocent  and  disdainful  above  all  those  strata  of 

sour  dead.     .     .     . 
Now  I  am  terrified  at  the  Earth!     it  is  that  calm  and  patient, 

It  grows  such  sweet  things  out  of  such  corruptions, 
It  turns  harmless  and  stainless  on  its  axis,  with  such  endless  successions  of 

diseased  corpses, 
It  distils  such  exquisite  winds  out  of  such  infused  fetor. 
It  renews  with  such  unwitting  looks  its  prodigal  annual  sumptuous  crops, 
It  gives  such  divine  materials  to  men,  and  accepts  such  leavings  from  tJiem 

at  the  last.'' 

— Walt  Whitman   {The  Compost). 

Natiire's  system  of  cropping  is  on  a  permanent  basis. 
Her  soils  do  not  "run  out."  She  puts  back  into  them  regu- 
larly all  that  she  takes  out  of  them,  and  a  little  more.  All  the 
mineral  substances  go  back  to  the  soil  whence  they  came,  and 
with  them,  in  the  humus,  goes  carbon  that  was  derived  from 
the  atmosphere.  There  is  loss  of  some  valuable  soil  material 
through  leaching  and  floods,  but  the  gain  is  greater  than  the 
loss,  and  the  longer  her  crops  are  grown,  the  more  fertile  the 
soil  becomes. 

Nature  holds  the  soil  together  by  occupying  it  full}-.  She 
grows  mainly  permanent  crops.  They  are  always  mixed 
crops;  and  the  mixture  is  so  varied  that  there  is  always 
something  to  grow  in  every  situation.  The  soil  is  held  with 
roots,  and  the  dead  herbage  is  held  by  the  tough  stems  of  the 
living;  it  is  rapidly  disintegrated  and  the  mineral  residue  is 
fed  to  the  roots  again.  Thus  the  food  supplies  of  her  vast 
population  are  used  over  and  over,  and  between  times  of  use, 
are  scrupulously  hoarded. 

Nature  practices  tillage,  and  on  a  vast  scale,  but  it  is  not 
our  sort  of  rapid  and  wasteful  tillage.     It  is  slow  soil-mixing 

175 


176 


NATURAL    HISTORY   OF  THE   FARM 


that  docs  not 
ground-cover. 


^'/. 


FlftL» 


Pig.  68.  Diagram  of  a  section  of  a  pnrtly 
wooded  hill.  /,  oritjinal  contour  of  the 
hill  slope;  m,  contour  assumed  after 
tilling  of  the  fiel  Is;  n,  in-wash  of  soil 
above;   and  o,  out -wash  of  soil  below. 


extensively  destroy  the  roots  nor  remove 
She  fines  tlie  surface  with  the  heav- 
ing of  winter  frosts.  She 
stirs  the  deeper  j^arts  by 
the  borings  of  earthwonns, 
by  tlie  excavating  of  bum  )\vs 
for  the  homes  of  mammals, 
and  by  the  overturn  of  the 
roots  of  windfall  trees.  It 
is  here  a  little  and  there  a 
little,  but  in  the  long  run  it 
is  thoroughly  done. 

We  can  see  the  contrast  be- 
tween nature's  soil  manage- 
ment and  our  own  on  almost  any  slope  where  both  fields  and 
woods  occur.  Wherever  their  boundaries  run  horizontally,  such 
contours  as  are  indicated  in  figure  68  result  from  the  rapid 
sHpping  away  of  the  topsoil  of  our  tilled  fields.  A  ridge  is 
formed  along  the  edge  of  the  wood  when  the  bare  field  lies 
above  it :  the  soil  washed  from  the  field  is  held  by  the  ground 
co\-er  herbage  at  the  edge  of  the  woodland.  When  the  field 
lies  below,  a  hollow  is  fomicd  at  the  edge  of  the  wood  where 
the  tree  roots  cease  to  hold  the  soil  together.  To  be  sure, 
gravity  is  always  operating,  and  the  soil  of  the  woods  is  slowly 
shifting  to  lower  levels ;  but  it  is  only  in  the  fields,  where  the 
ground-cox'cr  is  removed  and  the  root-hold  periodically 
broken,  that  the  process  goes  on  so  rapidly  that  the  soil  seems 
to  melt  and  vanish  before  our  eyes;  it  is  only  here  and  wdth 
very  bad  management,  that  the  organic  products  of  one 
season  arc  all  taken  from  it  before  the  next  season  comes 
around. 

Let  us  go  into  the  woods  and  look  at  the  soil  there.  The 
first  thing  we  notice  is  that  there  is  little  soil  to  be  seen— only 
a  few  paths  kept  bare  by  passing  feet.     Here  and  there  are 


NATURE'S  SOIL-CONSERVING  OPERATIONS 


177 


little  patches  of  mosses  or  other  low  herbage,  but  nearly  all 
the  levels  are  overspread  with  leaves,  and  under  the  leaves  is 
leaf -mold.  Here  is  humus  in  the  making.  Let  us  examine 
the  bed  of  leaf  mold.  On  top,  the  leaves  are  well  preserved. 
and  show  clearly  by  their  form  on  what  kinds  of  trees  they 


\  . 


xx\ 


^ 


Fig.  69.     A  skeletonized  leaf  of  cottonwood. 


grew.  Some  leaves,  such  as  those  of  oaks,  that  contain  much 
tannin  are  resistant  to  decay,  and  those  of  two  seasons  may 
remain  unrotted.  But  other  leaves,  such  as  those  of  elm, 
decay  so  quickly  that  they  will  not  outlast  the  first  winter. 
In  some,  such  as  those  of  maple  and  cottonwood  (fig.  69),  the 
veins  resist  decay  so  much  longer  than  the  blade  that  the 
leaves  become  beautifully  skeletonized.     In  the  lower  strata 


178  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

such  leaves  will  be  fouml.  Commingled  with  the  leaves  are 
])ieces  of  stems  and  bark  and  t^^^gs.  Strips  of  birch  bark 
lon.t^  persist,  being  rendered  well-nigh  moisture-proof  by 
their  abimdant  resin. 

Under  the  rccogniziible  lea\-es  and  twigs  is  humus,  formed 
from  those  that  fell  earlier.  It  is  black  and  full  of  moisture. 
It  is  mingled  with  the  top  layers  of  the  soil.  As  we  uncover 
the  floor  of  the  leaf-beds,  we  see  some  of  the  agents  nature 
uses  in  promoting  the  formation  of  humus:  molds  and 
mildews  and  other  fungi  of  many  sorts,  that  grow  in  and  dis- 
integrate the  plant-stuffs;  snails  and  earthwonns  and  mille- 
pedes and  pill-bugs  and  spring-tails  and  many  insect  larv^ae 
that  eat  them.  Carnivores  are  here,  also;  ground-beetles 
and  centipedes  and  spiders,  among  the  lesser  forms,  and 
salamanders  and  shrews,  among  those  of  larger  size.  The 
beds  of  leaf -mold  have  a  population  of  their  own.  All  are 
hastening  the  restoration  of  the  useful  j^lant  materials  to  the 
soil.  Numberless  roots  are  holding  the  humus  together. 
The>'  ne\'er  let  go;  this  is  nature's  way  of  keeping  the  soil 
productive.  It  is  only  after  we  have  dug  down  through  the 
humus-stained  top  layers  that  we  come  to  soil  that  looks 
hke  that  in  the  fields. 

Not  in  the  woods  alone,  but  also  in  the  wild  meadow  and 
on  the  prairie,  nature  practices  admirable  economy  in  the 
use  of  her  soil-riches.  Gravity  aids  in  the  enricliment  of 
the  lowlands,  but  in  spite  of  gravity  the  soil  of  the  hills 
improve  as  time  runs  on  and  wild  crops  grow  upon  them. 

In  holding  what  is  gained  the  deep-rooting  forest-co\-cr  is 
not  more  useful  than  is  the  turf -forming  ground-cover  her- 
bage. Great  and  small  are  colaborcrs  in  nature's  plan. 
Her  method  is  conservation  with  use — the  fullest  possible 
use — the  use  that  brings  the  greatest  good  to  the  greatest 
number,  and  that  insures  the  continued  welfare  of  a  teem- 
ing population. 


NATURE'S  SOIL-CONSERVING  OPERATIONS  179 

Study  23.     Observations  on  Leaf-mold  and  Woodland  Soil 

For  this  study,  digging  tools  of  some  sort  for  individual  use 
should  be  provided;  light  brick-layers'  hammers  will  do. 
Vials  or  other  containers,  in  which  to  keep  specimens  pending 
identification,  will  also  be  useful. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  : 

1.  Uncovering  the  soil  in  a  leaf -bed  in  the  woods,  noting 
the  materials  of  its  composition  and  their  condition  at  differ- 
ent depths;  also  its  population,  as  evidenced  by  the  presence 
of  some,  animals  and  the  "signs" -of  others. 

2.  Digging  two  holes  down  into  the  subsoil,  one  in  the 
woods  and  the  other  in  the  open  field,  carefully  noting  the 
color  condition  and  contents  of  the  strata  encountered. 

3 .  Observing  the  agencies  concerned  in  the  mixing  of  the 
soil  in  the  woods. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of: 

1.  Notes  on  the  leaf -bed  as  to: 

(a).     Its  components  and  their  state  of  preservation, 
(b).     Its  population  and  the  relative  size  and  abun- 
dance of  its  resident  organisms. 

2 .  Comparative  diagrams  of  vertical  soil-sections  in  woods 
and  in  field,  with  notes  on  such  differences  as  the  diagrams  do 
not  show. 

3.  Diagrams  of  soil  disturbance: 

(a).     At  the  mouth  of  an  animal's  burrow  (section). 
(b).     At  the  root  of  an  overturned  tree. 


XXIV.    THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TREES 

"My  heart  is  a:ced  within  me  when  I  think 

Of  the  great  miracle  that  still  goes  on, 

In  silence,  round  me — the  perpetual  work 

Of  the  creation,  finished,  yet  rene-wed 

Forever.     Written  on  thy  works  I  read 

The  lesson  of  thy  own  eternity. 

Lo!  all  grow  old  and  die— but  see,  again, 

How  on  the  faltering  footsteps  of  drcay 

Youth  presses — ever  giy  and  beautiful  youth 

In  all  its  beiutiful  forms.     These  lofty  trees 

Wave  not  less  proudly  that  their  ancestors 

Moulder  beneath  them.     Oh,  there  is  not  lost 

One  of  earth's  charms:     upon  her  bosom  yet. 

After  the  flight  of  untold  centuries, 

The  freshness  of  her  far  beginning  lies 

And  yet  shall  lie." 

— Bryant  (Forest  Hymn) 

What  becomes  of  the  giants  of  the  forest  when  they  fall  ? 
A  ^-ise  man  of  old  said,  "In  the  place  where  the  tree  falleth 
there  shall  it  he."  Yes,  if  it  escape  the  woodcutter,  it  Hes 
there;  but  it  does  not  lie  very  long.  The  great  oak  that 
crashes  to  earth,  crushing  everything  in  its  path,  hes  but  one 
growing  season  ere  the  underlings  are  green  above  it :  a  few 
years  more,  and  they  are  crowding  into  the  upper  light  that  it 
once  monopolized.  Its  building  up  was  long— centuries  long ; 
but  a  decade  is  ample  for  its  decay.  And  well  it  is  for  the 
living  that  the  dead  do  not  longer  enciunber  the  ground,  or 
hold  locked  up  in  their  stark  bodies  the  materials  needed  for 
the  growth  of  a  new  generation. 

Nature  makes  of  the  dissolution  of  these  imponderable 
trunks  a  lightsome  task.  She  proceeds,  as  ever,  without 
haste  or  noise,  making  use  of  frost  and  sun  and  rain  and  a  long 
succession  of  living  agents.  From  the  first  souring  of  the  sap 
to  the  final  mixing  of  the  log-dust  with  the  soil,  she  uses  bac- 
teria, molds  and  fungi ;  and  of  the  higher  fungi,  an  interest- 
ing succession  of  forms  appears  as  the  dissolution  of  the  wood 

i8o 


THE  PASSING  OP  THE  TREES 


i8i 


Fig.  70.  Three  insect  larvae  that 
hve  in  logs,  x,  a  carpenter-worm ; 
y,  a  wire-worm;  z,  a  snipe-fly  larva 
{Xylophagus) . 


proceeds.  She  uses  insects,  also, 
in  great  variety.  Wood-borers 
and  carpenter-worms  penetrate 
to  the  heart  of  the  soHd  trunks, 
in  their  feeding  operations,  open- 
ing passage  ways  for  the  water 
and  for  fungus  spores .  Engraver- 
beetles,  excavating  their  nests  of 
wonderful  design,  loosen  and 
perforate  the  bark.  Wire-worms 
and  firefly  larv£E  perforate  the 
log  heaps  when  in  a  crumbling 
red-rotten  condition;  and  white 
grubs  m.ix  the  last  recognizable 
remnants  with  the  soil.  So 
are  the  largest  organic  bodies  on  the  earth  reduced  to 
earth  again,  and  their  masses  of  food  materials  put  again  into 
circulation;  and  in  the  process,  generations  of  lesser  organ- 
isms have  been  fed  and  housed.  This  is  nature's  method. 
Of  course,  the  population  of  these  logs  does  not  consist  of 
herbivores  alone.  Wherever  fungi  and  herbivorous  animals 
flourish,  their  enemies  are  siure  to  find  them.  Stripping 
off  the  bark  from  an  old  log,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  find 
fungus-eating  animals  of  several  sorts:  various  beetles, 
cockroaches,  millepedes,  sow-bugs  and  the  minute  white 
cylindric  legless  lavvse  of  fimgus-gnats 
carnivores — centipedes,  ground 
beetles,  fireflies,  etc.,  searching 
for  animal  prey.  Even  in  the 
burrows  of  the  heartwood  borers, 
occur  parasites  that  have  found 
their  well-sequestered  victims. 
Then  there  are  vertebrate  ene-  ''^g;JL^offoS!^"rfi?e-'flT(ia^'5- 
mies,    also— salamanders,     that       iS^)."'  ^  ^^^"'^"^^^^  ^^"^^^y 


Also,  we  find  true 


I82  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

squeeze  in  under  the  loose  bark;  woodpeckers,  that  cut 
deep  holes  to  find  the  borers;  and  raccoons  and  bears 
that  tear  rotten  lo<,-s  to  pieces  with  their  claws,  searching 
for  grubs  to  eat.  Each  fallen  log  is  a  center  of  considerable 
resident  population,  and  entertains  numerous  foreign  visitors. 
A  few  of  the  more  common  and  characteristic  residents  are 
shown  in  figures  70  and  71. 

The  following  brief  statement  of  group  characters  may 
further  aid  in  their  recognition.  Most  of  the  resident 
insects  found  in  logs  will  be: 

I.  Caterpillars,  (Order  Lepidoptera)  having  a  long  cyl- 
indric  bod}',  with  a  bro\\Ti  shield  covering  the  first  segment 
behind  tlie  head,  and  a  tuberculate,  spinous  skin.  These  are 
moth  lar\'ns  fig.  7o.r. 

II.  Beetle  larvae,  (Order  Colcoptcra)  having  a  distinct 
head,  usually  small  legs  also,  no  hvovm  shield  on  the  first 
segment  after  the  head,  and  a  great  variety  of  form  and  sire. 
Beetles  are  the  most  important  of  wood-destroying  insects, 
and  a  nu:nber  of  the  families  of  beetle  lar^^ae  may  be  recog- 
nized by  the  following  characters  : 

1.  The  tme  borers  (members  of  the  families  Buprestidae 

and  Cerambycidaj),  ha\'ing  the  long,  straight  body 
greatly  widened  and  flattened  toward  the  front 
end,  the  skin  naked,  pale  and  wrinkled,  and  the 
legs  rudimentary.  These  perforate  the  hardest 
woods. 

2 .  The  engraver-beetles  (Scohlidrc) ,  having  short,  thick, 

arcuate  bodies  tliat  are  usually  legless,  naked, 
wrinkled,  and  white. 

3.  "Wire-worms"    (Elaterida?),    having    very    smooth 

cyUndric,  elongate  bodies,  small  legs,  shining 
yellowish  or  brown  skin,  and  a  homy  disc  ter- 
minating tlie  abdomen  above,  tlie  margin  of  the 
disc  being  toothed  or  sculptured  (fig.  ^oy). 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TREES  183 

4.  "Glow-worms"     (Lampyrida)),     having     the     body 

elongate  tapering  to  the  ends,  flattened  on  the 
back,  with  weU-developed  legs  and  usually  a  pig- 
mented skin. 

5.  "White  grubs"  (Scarabasid^),  having  the  short  thick 

body  bent  double  upon,  itself,  so  that  the  grub  lies 
on  Its  side,  the  legs  well  developed,  the  white  skin 
bristly,  and  the  blunt  hinder  end  of  the  body 
smooth  and  shiny. 

6.  Pyrochroid  beetle  larv^  (Pyrochroida^) ,  having  the 

body  very  thin  and  flat,  its  sides  parallel,  the  legs 
weU  developed,  the  skin  brown,  and  a  pair  of  stout 
upturned  hooks  at  the  end  of  the  abdomen. 

III.  Fly  larvce  (Order  Diptera),  having  cylindric  legless 
bodies  that  taper  from  rear  to  front,  the  head  being  apparently 
wanting.     Three  families  commonly  are  found. 

1.  Fungus-gnat  Iar^^ae  (Mycetophilid^),  of  minute  size, 

white  and  soft,  usviaUy  occurring  gregariously 
imder  bark. 

2.  Snipe-fly  larvae  (Leptid^),  of  similar  form  but  larger 

and  with  the  pointed  front  end  of  the  body  of  a 
deep  brown  color,  usuaUy  found  in  rotting  wood 
(fig.  702) 

3.  Crane-fly  larvffi  (Tipulidag),  less  tapering,  more  cylin- 

dric, with  the  head  end  more  blimtly  pointed,  and 
with  a  respiratory  disc  upon  the  rear  end  in  the 
midst  of  which  may  be  seen  the  openings  of  a  pair 
of  breathing  tubes.  Skin  tough  and  more  or  less 
leathery. 

IV.  Horn-tail  larvae  (Order  Hymenoptera) ,  having  a 
long  smootlily-cylindric  white  body  with  a  prominent  spine 
on  the  posterior  end,  rudimentary  thoracic  legs,  and  a 
small  but  distinct  head  placed  low  down  at  the  front  end; 
living  in  large  clean-cut  holes  that  are  usually  disposed  in 
groups  in  dead  or  living  trees. 


l84  NATUR.\L  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

One  obscr\'cs  in  the  w<x)ds  that  different  kinds  of  logs  ha\c 
very  different  behavior  in  decay.  Certain  kinds,  Hke  poplar 
and  willow,  decay  rajMcUy  and  soon  disappear.  Others,  like 
chestnut  and  c\])ress,  long  persist.  Some,  like  the  oaks,  lose 
the  bark  and  sapwood  quickly  while  the  heartwood  is  still 
sound:  others,  like  the  yellow  birch,  preser^-e  the  hollow 
cylinders  of  bark  intact,  long  after  the  wood  has  decayed  and 
fallen  from  them.  One  finds  the  segments  of  the  bark  of 
birch  kicked  about  over  the  forest  floor,  long  after  the 
trunks  have  vanished.  The  resinous  knots  of  the  pines 
persist  far  beyond  all  other  parts  of  the  tree.  And  with  the 
differences  in  the  character  and  content  of  the  trunlvs,  go 
differences  in  the  population.  The  insects  and  fungi  that 
work  in  pine  logs  are  not  the  same  species  that  work  on  logs 
of  oak  or  willow. 

In  the  forest,  where  every  inch  of  ground  is  densely  filled 
with  roots,  the  crumbling  logs,  as  they  settle  into  the  earth, 
furnish  a  new  place  in  which  seedlings  may  get  a  foothold. 
Certain  shrubs,  like  wild  currant  and  raspberry,  habitually 
spring  up  from  seeds  dropped  upon  fallen  logs  by  birds; 
many  trees,  also,  start  in  the  same  place  from  wind-so^^^l 
seeds,  and  gradually  settle  with  the  disintegrating  heap  to 
the  level  of  the  ground.  How  often  one  finds  in  the  woods 
a  young  birch  tree  or  hemlock,  standing  astride  a  stump 
or  fallen  log  with  long  leg-like  roots  reaching  dowTi  either 
side  into  the  soil. 

Gradually  the  moldering  heap  is  dispersed  by  winds  and  the 
patter  of  raindrops  and  the  stir  of  passing  feet.  The  great  tree 
has  silently  passed  and  left  no  sign;  but  the  organic  products 
it  gathered  in  its  lifetime  have  gone  to  the  permanent  enrich- 
ment of  the  soil. 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  TREES  185 

Study  24.     Observations  on  the  Decay  of  Fallen  Trees 

Any  natiiral  woods,  having  a  variety  of  fallen  trees,  or  even 
of  old  stumps,  will  do  for  this  study.  The  individual  equip- 
ment needed  will  be  sharp  brick  hammers  or  hatchets  for 
stripping  bark  and  digging  into  logs,  and  vials  of  alcohol  to 
hold  insects,  pending  their  identification.  A  few  axes  will  be 
needed  for  common  use. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  taking  some  logs  (or 
tree-stumps)  to  pieces,  observing  their  condition  and  rate  of 
decay  in  various  parts,  and  collecting  specimens  of  their 
inhabitants. 

The  record  of  the  work  may  consist  of  : 

1.  Notes  on  the  phenomena  of  decay  in  logs  of  several 
species:  changes  in  color  and  hardness;  relative  rate  of 
progress  in  bark,  sapwood,  heartwood,  knots,  etc.;  plants 
growing  in  the  residual  heaps,  etc. 

2.  A  table  of  the  wood-inhabiting  insects  found,  prepared 
with  column  headings  as  follows : 

Name  of  insect  (ask  instructor,  if  you  do  not  know  it). 
Stage  found  (larva,  pupa  or  adult). 

Kind  of  tree  (wliite  oak,  linden,  etc.). 
Inhabits  I  ^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  (bark,  sapwood,  heartwood,  etc.). 

Condition    (sound,    red-rotten,    white-rotten, 
etc.). 
Burrow  (depth,  form,  direction,  etc.). 
Products  (chips,  borings,  dust,  etc.). 
Occurrence  (rare,  common,  abundant,  etc.). 
Remarks. 

3 .  A  list  of  the  carnivorous  insects  foimd  in  the  logs,  with 
notes  on  their  situation,  occurrence,  etc. 


XXV.     THE    FENCE-ROW 

"/  wander  lo  {he  zii^zafi-corNered  fence 
Where  sassdfras,  intrenched  in  brambles  dense, 
Contests  with  stolid  vehemence 

The  march  of  culture,  setting  limb  and  thorn 
As  pikes  against  the  army  of  the  corn." 

— Sidney  Lanier  (Com). 

In  any  new  colmtr^^  the  first  sign  of  civilization  is  a  fence. 
It  signifies  control  over  the  animal  world.  There  is  some- 
thing useful  shut  in,  or  something  harmful  shut  out.  It 
signifies  personal  possession  of  something — an  advance 
beyond  the  stage  when  all  that  nature  offers  is  held  in  com- 
mon. It  signifies,  also,  personal  insight  into  the  wa^'s  of 
nature  and  initiative  in  making  better  use  of  her  resources. 

Fences  were  first  defenses.  They  were  built  by  man  to 
shut  himself  in  and  to  keep  enemies  out.  Then  they  became 
stockades  made  of  posts  fixed  in  the  ground,  and  were  extended 
to  give  shelter  to  a  few  domesticated  beasts,  as  well  as  to  man. 
In  pioneer  times  in  America  our  ancestors  were  still  defending 
themselves  and  tlicir  possessions  behind  stockades.  Then, 
with  the  growth  of  animal  husbandry,  they  were  expanded 
into  stock-pens,  whose  early  function  was  to  keep  wild  beasts 
out,  but  whose  function  has  now  become  that  of  keeping  tame 
beasts  in.  Fences  have  only  one  agricultural  function — the 
control  of  animals. 

The  pioneer  built  fences  for  his  fields  of  unmanufactured 
materials — of  brush,  of  stumps,  of  stones.  These  he  obtained 
in  clearing  the  ground.  The  brush  fence  could  be  built 
quickly,  but  was  a  most  temporary  makeshift.  Boughs  piled 
with  their  tops  directed  outward  formed  a  good  barrier 
against  approach  from  one  side.  But  they  covered  much 
ground  (a  matter  of  more  importance  to  us  than  to  the 
pioneer) ;   they  might  be  destroyed  by  fire  at  any  time  after 

i86 


THE  FENCE-ROW 


187 


becoming  dry;  escaping  fire,  they  soon  settled  to  the  earth 
in  decay ;  and  during  their  time  they  harbored  an  abundance 
of  rabbits,  mice  and  other  vermin  to  infest  the  fields.  The 
stump  fence  was  usually  made  of  white  pine,  having  great 
horizontal  spread  of  roots.  The  roots  of  one  side  were 
chopped  off,  so  that  when  the  stump  was  laid  on  one  side  the 
other  side  rose  erect  into  the  air.  By  overlapping  of  roots, 
an  excellent  barrier  was  thus  constructed.  Tho  subject,  in  a 
less  degree,  to  the  defects  of  the  brush  fence,  the  stump  fence 
had  the  one  great  merit  of  permanence.  The  resinous  roots 
resist  decay,  insomuch  that  there  are  stump  fences  all  over 
New  York  and  New  England  to-day  fairly  well  preserved,  that 
were  built  by  the  pioneers.  Indeed,  after  the  clearing  of  the 
land  and  the  first  cutting-over  of  the  woods,  there  was  no 
material  left  for  building  such  fences  a  second  time.  Stone 
fences  are  built  with  greater  expenditure  of  labor,  but  they 
occupy  less  land,  and  if  properly  built  in  the  beginning,  are 
easily  maintained.  Like  the  two  preceding,  they  are  built  of 
waste  material  obtained  in  clearing  the  land. 

But  such  materials  were  not  available  everywhere  in 
quantities  adequate  even  for  the  first  fences  built.  Further- 
more, the  trunk  of  a  tree,  if  split  into  rails,  will  build  much 
more  and  better  fence  than  will  the  brush  of  its  tops,  and  the 
fence  will  occupy  less  ground,  will  be  less  easily  btuned,  will 
harbor  less  vermin,  and  will  last  much  longer. 

When  land  was  being  cleared  of  timber  for  which  there 
was  no  market,  the  best  use  to  which  the  logs  could  be  put, 
was  to  split  them  into  rails  and  build  fences  with  them. 
Rails  of  black  walnut  and  cherry  and  other  valuable  woods 
were  used  in  the  fencing  of  thousands  of  acres.  During  that 
comparatively  brief  period  when  men  believed  the  timber 
supply  of  the  country  to  be  inexhaustible,  rail-splitting  was 
one  of  the  most  widespread  forms  of  labor;  insomuch  that 
when  Abraham  Lincoln  was  introduced  to  the  people  of  the 


[88 


KATUR.\L  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


nation  as-  a  candidate  for  president,  in  order  to  ally  him 
with  the  common  folks,  lie  was  presented  to  them  as  a 
rail-splitter. 

Events  have  moved  raj^idly  since  tliat  day.  The  rail- 
splitter  is  well-nigh  extinct.  The  rail  fence  has  become 
expensi^'e,  and  wire  is  taking  its  ]:)lace.  Another  generation 
wdll  see  little  of  tlie  old  fonn  of  wooden  fence,  which  in  our 
day  still  exists  side  by  side  with  modem  wire  and  ancient  stone. 
WTiatever  the  fonn  of  a  fence,  if  it  bound  a  tilled  field,  it  is 
bordered  by  a  strip  of  ground,  at  least  as  wide  as  a  whiffle- 
tree  is  long,  that  is  a  tension  zone  of  wild  life.  On  one  side  is 
the  fence ;  on  the  other,  the  furrow.  Between  extends  a  strip 
of  sod  that  the  plowshare  camiot  reach,  and  this  sod  is  full 
of  lusty  wild  tilings,  all  struggHng  for  a  place  and  a  living. 

If  the  fanner  mows  it  con- 
stantly, grass  sod  develops 
as  in  a  meadow ;  if  he  mows 
it  annually  in  wdnter,  shrubs 
and  vines  possess  it;  if  he 
neglects  to  mow  it  for  a  few 
years,  trees  come  in.  What- 
ever plants  grow  in  it,  it  is 
a  haven  of  refuge  for  their 
wild  animal  associates;  if 
only  grass  sod,  meadow-mice 
and  shrews  will  make  their 
nmwa\'s  under  its  cover;  if 
briers  and  grass  grow 
together,  rabbits  wall  make  their  forms  or  dig  their  bur- 
rows in  the  midst  of  it.  Every  post  or  stake  or  high 
point  in  the  fence  is  a  point  of  outlook  and  a  resting- 
place  for  the  birds  of  the  fields.  Perching,  they  drop  the 
seeds  of  berr}'-bearin^  shrubs  and  vines.  So,  we  see  dog- 
woods and  elders  and  sumachs  and  chokecherries  and  bram- 


FiG.  72.  Diagram  of  a  cross-section  of  a 
fence-row.  a,  soil  thrown  out  from  a 
burrow;  b,  the  runway  of  a  meadow- 
mouse  under  the  grass;  c.  the  "form  "  of 
a  rabbit;  d,  the  furrow;  and  e,  the 
overturned  soil. 


THE  FENCE-ROW 


189 


Fig.   73.       May-apple — fine    wild  herb 
that  lingers  in  the  fence-row. 


bles  springing  up  everywhere,  and  wild  grape,  woodbine  and 
poison-ivy  climbing  up  the  posts.  But,  however  much  grain 
the  farmer  may  have  spilled  on  the  sod,  we  do  not  find  grain 

growing  there.  Our  cultivated 
grains  are  weaklings,  requir- 
ing constant  coddling. 

Just  what  we  do  for  them 
when  we  break  the  sod,  may  be 
seen  on  the  furrow  side  of  the 
fence-row.  If  here  and  there 
be  an  overturned  sod  that  has 
escaped  subsequent  tillage,  we 
see  the  wild  things  have  been 
cut  off  far  below  the  ground  and 
tiu*ned  upside  dowTi.  Thus  we  kill  some  of  them,  and  give 
others  a  bad  set-back,  and  leave  the  severed  roots  of  all  of 
them  (excepting  such  as  sassafras)  to  rot  in  the  ground.  But 
as  our  plowshare  cuts,  our  mold-board  breaks  the  sod  while 
turning  it  over,  leaving  it  more  open  to  the  air,  and  favoring 
new  growth  of  roots.  The  difference  made  in  texture  may  be 
proved  by  probing  with  a  stick ,  and  the  effect  of  subsequent 
tillage  as  well,  if  we  probe  both  the  sod,  turned  and  im- 
turned,  and  the  mellow  root-free  soil  of  the  field. 

As  time  has  run,  and  farms  have  multiphed  and  the  \\ild 
animals,  against  whose  incursions  fences  were  once  built,  have 
disappeared,  as  methods  have  become  more  intensive  and 
greater  areas  have  been  devoted  to  raising  forage  and  less  to 
the  ranging  of  the  stock,  fences  have  become  less  important; 
at  least,  relatively  fewer  fences  are  needed;  for  many  fields 
may  now  go  unfenced.  Yet  wherever  a  fence  is  built  and  a 
little  strip  of  accompanying  sod  remains  unturned,  there  will 
still  appear  the  same  old  denizens  of  the  fence-row  that  flocked 
at  the  heels  of  the  pioneer — berry -bearing  bushes  and 
brambles  and  vines.  Amid  the  vicissitudes  of  tillage,  the 
fence-row  is  as  a  haven  of  refuge  for  these  wild  things. 


190  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Study  25.     Observations  on  Fence-rows 
The  program  of  work  for  this  study  will  consist  of: 

1 .  A  comparison  of  fence-rows  bordering  different  kinds  of 
fences,  in  different  situations  (upland  and  lowland,  adjacent 
to  woods,  pasture  and  fields),  and  receiving  different  care  (or 
different  degrees  of  neglect). 

2.  A  detailed  study  of  the  po])ulation  of  selected  strips  of 
fence-row,  as  to  the  lai;ger  plants  and  animals  it  helps  sustain. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of : 

1.  Notes  as  to  condition^  obtaining  in  half  a  dozen  of  the 
different  fence-rows  observ^ed. 

2.  Annotated  lists  of  the  population  of  the  fence-rows 
selected  for  special  study: 

(a)  Plants,  with  notes  on  the  kind,  size,   gro\vth- 

habit,  mode  of  propagation,  abundance,  etc. 

(b)  Animals,  as  indicated  by  "signs"  of  their  occur- 

rence, burrows,  runways,  nests,  borings, 
tracks,  hair,  feathers,  etc.,  with  notes  on 
haunts,  abundance,  etc. 


XXVL     THE   SPRING   BROOK 

"Oh,  for  a  seat  in  some  poetic  nook, 
Just  hid  with  trees  and  sparkling  with  a  brook.'* 

— Leigh  Hunt. 

The  early  settlers  in  our  coimtry  sought  springs  of  water. 
Clear-flowing  streams  were  good  to  dwell  by,  but  springs  were 
better.  Their  water  was  cooler  in  summer,  did  not  freeze  in 
winter  and  was  freer  at  all  times  from  possible  contamination. 
Springs  w^ere  the  primeval  water  supply.  These,  more  than 
any  other  single  thing,  determined  the  home-sites  of  the 
pioneers. 

Springs  were  natural  coolers  for  perishable  food  products — - 
not  refrigerators,  but  coolers ;  milk  or  melons  they  would  cool, 
without  overdoing  it.  A  low  thick-walled  spring-house  was 
often  built  over  the  outflowing  stream  to  keep  out  the  sim's 
warmth  and  to  increase  convenience  and  capacity.  The 
spring-house  was  the  antecedent  of  the  modem  household 
refrigerator,  and  altho  far  less  convenient,  being  usually 
remote  from  the  kitchen,  it  was  an  excellent  aid  to  keeping 
foods  fresh  and  cool.  Moreover,  its  equable  temperature 
insured  as  well  against  their  freezing  in  winter. 

Springs  gave  promise  of  the  welfare  of  the  fields,  as  well  as 
of  the  household.  They  signified  plenty  of  ground  water; 
and  the  levels  adjacent  to  the  springs  were  the  areas  first 
cleared  and  cultivated.  In  almost  any  locality,  if  one  would 
know  where  the  first  homes  were  built,  he  need  only  inquire 
the  location  of  the  best  permanent  springs,  and  then  look  for 
adjacent  building-sites. 

Springs  result  from  the  water  percolating  through  loose  soil 
strata,  and  flowing  out  over  outcropping  impermeable  strata. 
A  layer  of  gravelly  soil  overlying  a  sheet  of  clay  was  nature's 
prime^^al  filtration  plant.     From  it  the  water  issues,  clear 

191 


19: 


NATUR.VL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


and  sparkling,  of  a  \o\y  and  constant  temperature,  "VNith  a  low 
oxygen  content,  and,  owing  to  prolonged  contact  wnth  the 
soil,  with  a  high  niincral  content  that  varies  much  according 
to  the  character  of  the  soil  traversed.  Deposits  of  sul]:)hur 
and  of  iron  are  often  fonncd  about  the  mouths  of  mineral 
s]M-ings.  But  where  the  ordinary  spring  bubbles  up,  one 
usually  sees  only  miniature  deltas  of  clean-washed  sand  at  the 
bottom  of  a  lim^^id  pool,  which  clears  itself  quickly  after 
roiling. 

Spring  water  has  a  population  of  its  own. 
Man  and  bird  and  beast  are  transient 
visitors  who  only  quaff  its  waters;  but 
there  are  other  creatures,  that  pennanently 
dwell  in  them.  They  are  things  that  cannot 
endure  too  great  heat  in  summer  or  freezing 
in  winter:  things  that  like  low  equable 
temperature  and  partial  shade.  The  most 
characteristic  plant  that  grows  in  spring 
water  is  water  cress  (fig.  74) ;  it  was  used 
by  the  pioneer  to  garnish  his  meat  platter, 
and  it  is  still  so  used.  There  are  water- 
mosses,  also  suited  to  such  a  habitat,  and 
many  lesser  alga3  of  various  kinds,  both 
green  and  bro^^^l. 

There  are  animals,  also,  that  live  in 
spring  water;  such  are  the  salaniander  shown  in  figure  75, 
and  the  brook  trout,  which  does  its  best  in  water  not  warmer 
than  60°  F.,  and.  many  other  lesser  creatures.  Most  of 
the  great  groups  of  animals  are  represented  there,  if 
by  only  a  few  fonns:  crustaceans;  by  the  scuds,  clamb- 
ering over  and  feeding  ui)on  the  water-cress,  and  by 
a=;ellus,  wallowing  in  the  soft  bottom  of  the  pools 
(fig.  20);  molluscs,  by  little  white  clams  (half  an  inch 
long,  more  or  less),  of  the  genus  Sphcsrium,  furrowing  tlie 


Fig.   74.      A  leaf  of 
watercress. 


THE  SPRING  BROOK 


193 


silt  on  the  pool-beds;  wonns,  by  planarians 
gliding  over  the  stones  of  the  bottom,  and  by 
Tubifex,  in  tubes  in  the  bottom  mud,  wa\dng 
their  long,  lithe,  filamentous,  red  bodies  in  the 
water ;  and  insects,  by  a  number  of  inhabitants 
of  the  submerged  vegetation — caddis-worms 
(fig.  76),  mayfly  n3Tnphs  (fig.  23),  midge  larvae 
(fig.  24),  etc.,  and  by  a  few  bniTowers  in  the 
bottom.  The  spring  brook  docs  not  harbor 
mosquitoes,  but  horse-fly  larvae  (fig.  77)  live  in 
the  soft  bottom  and  emerge  in  midsummer 
to  annoy  farm  animals. 

As  compared  with  the  population  of  warm 
and  stagnant  pools,  the  denizens  of  the  spring 
brook  are  few,  and  many  of  them  are  so 
restricted  by  conditions  that,  wherever  they 
are  found,  they  serve  as  an  indication  that  the 

water  is  pure  and  cool  and  permanent.     The  spring  brook 

sustains  the  life  of 

these,  and  helps  sus- 
tain   innumerable 

others  that  come  and 

go,    or    that    dwell 

about  its  borders.     Bryant  has  sensed  this  in  his  "Forest 

Hymn,": 

"Yon  clear  spring,  that,  midst  its  herbs, 
Wells  softly  forth  and  visits  the  strong  roots 
Of  half  the  mighty  forest,  tells  no  tale 
Of  all  the  good  it  does." 


Pig.  75.  A  com- 
mon spring-in- 
habiting sala- 
mander (.SpC' 
lerpes) . 


Fig.  76.     A  caddis-worm  {Phryganea). 


Fig.  77.     A  horse-fly  larva. 


194 


NATUI^AL   HISTORY   OF   Till-    FARM 


Study  26.     Observations  at  a  Spring 

Any  clcar-flo\\'ing  permanent  s])ring  will  do  for  this  study — 
whether  *  'improved'  *  \\ith  a  basin  or  a  spring-house,  or  not.  A 
time  of  freshet  should  be  avoided:  low  water  is  ]-)referable. 
The  individual  cqui])ment  needed  will  be  a  flat  dish  (like  a 
white-enameled  vegetable-dish)  and  a  hand  dip-net,  with, 
possibly,  a  few  vials  to  hold  specimens  pending  their  identi- 
fication. For  common  use,  a  pail,  a  garden-rahc  and  a 
thermometer  should  be  provided. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of: 

1 .  An  examination  of  the  spring  itself,  its  water,  its  bed, 
its  topographic  situation. 

2.  A  sur^^ey  of  the  inhabitants  of  its  waters,  both  plants 
and  animals.  The  plants  may  be  raked  out  of  the  water,  and 
certain  animals  may  be  picked  from  them  by  hand:  other 
animals  may  be  picked  from  stones  in  the  brook-bed  or  sifted 
from  the  bottom  mud  with  a  dip-net. 

The  record  of  tliis  study  may  consist  of: 

1 .  A  map  of  the  emdrons  of  the  spring,  including  a  bit  of 
the  outflowing  brook,  showing  topograph\%  outcropping 
strata,  riffles  and  pools. 

2.  Notes  on  the  spring  water,  its  temperature,  color, 
taste,  etc. 

3 .  An  annotated  list  of  the  population  of  the  water. 

(a)  For  plants,  giving  name,  kind  of  plant,  growth- 

habit,  relative  abundance,  etc. 

(b)  For  animals,  giving  name,  kind  of  animal,  situa- 

tion  in   which   found,    rc]:itivc   abundance, 
economic  importance,  etc. 


XXVII.     NATURE'S   OFFERINGS   FOR   SPRING 
PLANTING 

"J  should  like  to  live,  whether  I  smile  or  grieve, 
Just  to  watch  the  happy  l.'fe  of  my  green  things  growing". 

— Dinah  M.  Muloch  (Green  Things  Growing.) 

Planting  time !  Time  to  get  a  spade  and  tear  up  the  turf 
somewhere :  to  clear  a  space  and  stir  the  soil  and  set  in  it  the 
roots  of  some  lusty  plant-foundlings,  in  hopes  of  seeing  what 
they  will  do  when  summer  comes.  This  is  what  one's  hands 
are  itching  to  do  (if  there  be  a  drop  of  gardening  blood  in  his 
veins)  when  the  snowdrops  bloom,  and  the  early  buds  are 
swelling,  and  the  filmy  clouds  of  the  shadbush  are  whitening 
all  the  woodland  slopes.  Watching  things  grow,  things  that 
his  own  hands  have  planted,  is  one  of  the  chief  joys  of  the 
householder. 

Let  us  go,  not  to  the  garden  to-day,  but  to  the  wildwood. 
We  know  the  times  and  the  seasons  and  ways  and  uses  of 
radishes  and  peas  and  other  things  that  nature  lent  us  long 
ago,  and  that  we  have  made  the  staples  of  our  gardens.  Let 
us  seek  out  some  of  the  little-used  things,  whose  values  are 
chiefly  decorative;  things  that  minister  to  our  esthetic 
pleasure;  things  that  nature  has  been  keeping  for  us  until 
we  should  attain  to  an  appreciation  of  them;  and  let  us  begin 
to  learn  how  to  deal  with  them. 

Before  there  were  nurseries,  there  was  plenty  of  nursery 
stock  grown  in  the  wildwood,  seedlings  and  plants  of  all  sizes. 
Outside  of  the  nurseries,  there  is  plenty  of  it  still  growTi. 
Let  us  go  out  and  see  what  natiu-e  offers.  Let  us  find  her 
ancient  niirseries.  We  will  pass  by  the  seeds:  tho  there 
are  many  of  them  still  hanging  on  the  twigs  in  the  spring, 
they  are  for  the  most  part  slow  to  germinate.  We  will  pass 
by  the  bulbs,  also :  tho  there  are  many  of  them  shooting  up 


196 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


leaves  and  flower-stalks,  this  is  not  the  season  for  moving 
them — they  arc  for  fall  planting.  We  will  c<")nsider  only 
younj^  stock,  in  condition  f(jr  removal  and  ready  for  active 
growth.  We  need  not  look  where  there  has  been  much 
mowing  or  close  grazing,  or  where  severe  fires  ha\'e  run. 
These  cxtenninate  all  the  tender  green  things.  But  in 
almost  any  place  where  fairly  natural  conditions  remain,  we 
may  ex'/)ect  to  find  young  plants  of  each  species  commingled 

with  the  old.  Let  us  make  the 
old  fi-uiting  plants  our  guide  in 
finding  the  less  conspicuous  and 
less  easily  recognizable  younger 
generation.  Under  and  near  by 
the  old  flowering-dogwood  tree,  for 
example,  we  may  find  a  few  little 
dogwoods  that  ha\'e  sijrung  up 
from  seeds.  If  there  appear  to 
be  none,  let  us  look  closely,  for 

The 
growing  in'^'the  sccds  oftcu  tcquire  se\'eral  years 
to  genninate,  and  the  seedlings 
under  fa^^orable  conditions  may  grow  but  a  few  inches  a  }'ear. 
But  the  puniest  of  the  little  shade-dwarfed  seedlings  that  \Te 
may  find,  will  respond  wonderfully  if  set  out  in  a  nursery  t<  )w, 
where  they  ha\'e  plenty  of  room  and  light.  They  \\'ill  soon 
make  fine  trees. 

Figure  78  is  a  diagram  of  a  ninebark  growing  at  the  edge 
of  a  lawn.  From  its  swollen  pods  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
seeds  are  shed  e\'ery  year.  They  are  sown  about  over  the 
grass,  or  tossed  more  widely  when  the  wind  sways  the 
bushes.  Sooner  or  later,  most  of  them  gemiinate  and  a  few 
succeed  in  striking  ro(  )t  in  tlie  soil  and  in  lifting  their  pretty 
green  leaves  to  the  light.  The  mowing  of  the  lawn  clips  their 
tops ;  but  many  of  these  seedlings  have  leaves  that  are  below 


Seedling  ninebarks  in  the     11  11 

the  old  shrub;  b.  the    QOg^VOOdS    COmC    On    Slowly. 


Fig.  78 
lawn. 

little  seedlings  in  the  grass 
older    seedling 
shelter  of  the  fence. 


NATURE'S  OFFERING  FOR  SPRING  PLANTING       197 

the  level  of  the  mower,  and  such  live  on  and  renew  each 
season  their  ill-fated  attempts  to  rise  in  the  world.  The  grass 
is  full  of  them —  little  stubby  fellows,  each  with  only  two  or 
three  small  leaves  that  are  put  out  early  as  if  to  take  advan- 
tage of  the  leafless  condition  of  the  boughs  overhead.  But 
even  such  little  unpromising  stubs,  if  replanted  in  a  fa\-orable 
place,  will  make  long  leafy  shoots  the  first  season,  and  tall 
blossoming  shrubs  the  second  season.  And  if  one  will  look 
about  the  borders  of  the  lawn,  he  may  find  ready  for  planting 
some  ninebarks  of  a  larger  growth  that  have  escaped  the 
mowing-machine.  So  one  may  find  wild  seedlings  of  many 
other  sorts,  such  as  june-berry  and  arrowwood  and  witch- 
hazel  and  of  all  the  forest  trees. 

Trees  whose  seeds  employ  special  agencies  of  transporta- 
tion may  spring  up  in  a  new  place.  Thus  seedlings  of  plants 
whose  fruits  are  eaten  by  birds  are  found  about  the  open 
places  where  the  birds  perch;  and  those  from  seeds  that  are 
carried  by  water  may  congregate  along  shores  and  beaches. 
On  sand-bars  in  stream  or  lake,  one  often  sees  thousands  of 
little  cottonwoods,  willows,  maples  or  sycamores,  lined  up 
along  the  shore  as  in  a  single  extended  nursery-row. 

It  is  a  rough-and-timable  world  into  which  wildwood 
seedlings  enter.  When  one  thinks  how  small  and  tender  they 
are  at  the  first,  and  how  both  earth  and  air  are  filled  with 
competitors  and  enemies,  one  wonders  that  any  of  them  sur- 
vive. Above  them  are  great  trees  and  lusty,  smothering 
vines  and  bushes,  all  struggling  to  monopolize  the  light. 
Round  about  them  are  wild  animals  that  trample  and  browze 
and  burrow,  and  spread  destruction.  Drouth  and  flood  and 
frost  are  constantly  recurring  perils  while  the  seedlings  are 
little  and  have  but  a  tenuous  hold  upon  the  soil.  Even  the 
overturn  of  a  single  dead  leaf,  if  it  falls  flat  upon  them  and 
shuts  out  the  light,  may  extinguish  the  lives  of  dozens  of 
them. 


198 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  TlIK  FARM 


Yet  some  sun'ivc.  Kach  wild  species  holds  its  own.  In 
the  nice  balance  of  nature,  enough  arc  produced  so  that,  after 
all  the  losses  from  casualties  and  enemies,  a  few  will  still  be 
livin<^  on.  A  few  will  ha\-e  found  the  chance  ])laccs  of  security 
and  of  oi)portunity  and  will  be  carr\-ing  the  race  forward. 
It  is  nature's  method — wasteful  of  individuals  but  careful  of 
the  species.  It  necessitates  that  she  should  keep  her  nursery 
full. 

In  nature's  nursery  the  number  of  individuals  of  any  tree 
diminishes  very  rapidly  as  their  size  increases.     It  is  only 


Fi'^.  70.  An  uprooted  branch  of  coclcle-mint;  a,  the  old 
dead  flowering  stem;  b,  h.  two  new  shoots,  ready  for 
the  coming  season;  c,  c.  buds  that  will  produce  shoots 
for  the  year  thereafter. 


little  seedlings  that  ordinarily  are  abundant;  often,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  ninebark,  just  described,  they  are  nearly  all  too 
small  for  landscape  use;  and  those  of  "planting  size"  are  apt 
to  be  d^fonncd  by  growth  in  cramped  quarters.  But  if  only 
the  severity  of  the  struggle  for  existence  be  relieved  a  bit — as 
by  transplanting  these  little  things  into  good  soil  where  they 
may  have  plenty  of  room  and  light — fine  symmetrical  bushes 
may  be  had  in  a  season  or  two.  It  requires  only  a  little  fore- 
thought; it  produces  the  finest  plants,  and  yields,  besides, 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  things  develop. 


NATURE'S  OFFERINGS  FOR  SPRING  PLANTING      199 

In  all  nurseries,  wild  and  tame,  plants  are  propagated  in  a 
variety  of  ways.  Most  trees  are  grown  from  seeds;  the 
dominant  species  of  our  forests  are  increased  in  hardly  any 
other  way;  but  most  shrubs  and  perennial  herbs,  while  they 
produce  seeds  abundantly,  have  other  modes  of  increase. 
They  produce  new  plants  by  offsets,  suckers,  stolons,  layers, 
etc.  New  plants  thus  formed  are  grown  and  nurtured  under 
the  shelter  of  the  old  ones. 

The  cockle-mint  of  our  brook-sides,  {Physostegiavirginiana.) 
(fig.  79)  is  a  plant  well  habituated  to  this  mode  of  increase. 
It  produces  annual  herbaceous  stems  that  bear  four-ranked 
columns  of  beautiful  bright  pink  flowers,  and  that  are  usually 
followed  by  a  heavy  crop  of  seeds.  But  the  seeds  are  minute, 
and  the  seedlings  are  a  bit  slow  about  getting  started.  In 
the  everywhere  crowded  brook-side  thickets,  their  chance  for 
completing  development  is  indeed  a  very  rare  one.  Did 
this  plant  depend  on  holding  its  place  by  new  development 
from  seeds  every  year,  doubtless  it  would  quickly  disappear. 

But  it  has  other  resources.  From  the  base  of  each  flower- 
ing stem,  a  number  of  offsets  are  produced  as  underground 
branches.  Each  of  these  is  equipped  with  an  abundance  of 
roots,  with  a  store  of  reserve  food  material  (thickening  it 
apically),  with  a  big  apical  stem-bud,  and  with  a  few  green 
leaves  at  the  surface  of  the  ground,  all  ready  for  growth  when 
spring  breaks.  As  compared  with  a  puny  seedling,  it  is 
already  a  strong  and  well-established  plant.  The  provision 
it  makes  for  future  needs  extends  yet  farther  ahead.  On  the 
sides  of  each  offset,  there  are  produced  a  number  of  long 
naked  buds,  that  will  grow  out  into  new  offset  branches 
another  season,  and  rise  on  stems  and  bloom  and  bear  and 
die  the  simomer  thereafter. 

In  contrast  vAih.  reproduction  by  means  of  seeds,  the 
increase  by  this  method  is  slow  but  sure.  Plants  of  this  sort 
hold  their  place  in  the  world  by  continuous  occupancy  of  it. 


200  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Thc\'  nc\-cr  let  ^o.  Slow  as  is  this  method  of  propagation,  it 
still  means  a  steady  annual  increase  and  results  in  mutual 
crowding.  Each  oiTset  tends  to  form  a  clump,  and  each 
clump  a  thicket.  Some  plants  like — cockle-mint  and  pearl 
achille,  increase  in  this  way  so  quickl}^  that,  for  best  results 
in  flower  production,  they  need  to  be  dug  up,  divided  and 
replanted  every  second  year.  Most  herbaceous  perennials 
need  this  treatment  e\-er}'  few  years.  Both  the  number  and 
the  kind  of  offsets  produced  give  a  hint  of  the  future  beha\'ior 
of  the  plants.  If  there  be  only  a  few  little  offsets  close  against 
the  base  of  the  old  stem,  as  in  the  tall  lobelias  (Lobelia  cardi- 
nalis  and  L .  syphilitica)  one  knows  the  plants  will  spread  slowly 
and  stay  where  placed;  but  if  the  underground  shoots  are 
both  ver>"  long  and  numerous,  as  in  the  paniclcd  white  aster, 
one  knows  the  plant  is  likely  to  spread.  He  who  digs  them 
should  dig  obser\'antly,  learning  thereby  how  to  plant  them 
again  in  a  new  place. 

Excellent  for  planting  are  these  offsets  of  herbaceous 
perennials.  Nature  carefully  prepares  them  and  fully  equips 
them  for  ra]:)id  and  complete  development.  There  are  no 
years  of  long  waiting  for  results.  They  will  give  their  full 
effect  the  first  season.  So,  wliile  we  are  waiting  for  the  trees 
to  attain  their  dignity  and  for  the  shrubs  to  grow  to  blooming 
size,  we  plant  herbaceous  perennials.  Native  \\ald  perennials 
are  best  suited  to  informal  planting.  In  using  them  about 
our  grounds,  there  are  just  a  few  things  that  need  alwaj-s  to  be 
remembered : 

1.  To  ])lant  the  best  of  them  in  masses,  many  of  a  kind 
together,  for  too  great  variety  is  wearisome. 

2.  To  plant  the  tallest  growing  forms  at  the  back  and  the 
lowest  at  the  front,  so  that  the  lowest  foliage  masses  \\ill 
drop  gently  do\\ii  to  the  greensward. 

3 .  To  plant  each  kind  where  its  requirements  of  light  and 
moisture  will  be  met. 


NATURE'S  OFFERINGS  FOR  SPRING  PLANTING     201 


4.  To  plant  the  tough  and  thorny  things  in  exposed  places 
where  people  pass ;  the  weak  and  brittle  things  where  there  is 
little  chance  of  injury. 

5.  To  plant  in  such  an  arrangement  that  flowers  of 
inharmonious  hues  will  not  bloom  side  by  side. 

Such  plantings  will  be  beautiful  and  relatively  permanent, 
and  will  be  maintained,  year  after  year,  with  a  minimum  of 
trouble. 

Then,  we  may 
plant  for  fra- 
grance of  leaves 
or  flowers,  for 
succession  of 
bloom  through- 
out the  growing 
season,  for  au- 
tumnal colors  of 
leaves  or  \vintcr 
colors  of  bark  or 
berries,  or  for 
any  other  effect 
that  suits  our 
fancy;  nature 
has  something 
for  every  place 
and  purpose.  In 
the  wildwood  we  may  see  under  what  conditions  each 
thing  thrives  best.  And  anyone  can  plant  successfully  who 
will  observe  and  imitate  nature's  ways  of  using  each  sort. 
If  we  wish  to  attract  birds,  we  will  plant  berry-bearing 
bushes  and  vines :  such  shrubs  as  buffalo-berry,  shadbush, 
black-berried  elder,  viburnums,  wild  black  currant,  and 
blueberries:  such  vines  as  wild  grape,  honeysuckles  and 
clematis. 


A  spray  of  sweet-fern  (Cotnptonia  asplenifolia) . 


202  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Suggestions  as  to  the  natural  functions  of  such  materials  in 
the  beautifying  of  our  cn\'ironincnt  will  be  found  in 
Chapters  i6,  32,  and  48.  In  the  unmutilatcd  wildwood  one 
may  see  what  elements  of  grace  or  of  beauty  each  species 
may  lend  to  a  landscape.  Let  no  one  dcsi)air  of  having 
his  place  well  planted  for  lack  of  means:  there  is  little 
relation  between  money-cost  and  real  beauty.  Many  of 
the  most  beautiful  things  require  only  to  be  ])lanled  in 
suital  )lc  places.  Good  taste  is  what  is  needed,  and  an  a])preci- 
ation  of  the  requirements  of  the  plants  as  to  food,  water  and 
sunlight.  Beautiful  plantings  consist  only  of  plants  well 
placed  and  well  grown;  and  many  wild  things,  that  are  to 
be  had  for  the  digging  of  them,  will  grow  better  and  fit 
better  than  will  any  costly  exotics. 

Study  27.    Wild  Perennials  for  Spring  Planting 

Two  alternative  lines  of  work  are  suggested  for  this  exer- 
cise.    For  either,  individual  digging  tools  will  be  needed. 

I .  The  program  of  work  may  consist  of  a  search  in  woods  and 
fence-rows  for  wild  things  for  ornamental  plantings — trees  and 
shrubs  and  herbaceous  perennials.  These  shotdd  be  dug  up 
and  examined,  root  and  branch.  Their  soil  preferences  and 
moisture  and  light  requirements  should  be  carefully  noted. 
Their  relations  to  parent  plants  and  to  the  conditions  under 
which  they  ha\'e  gro\\Ti  should  be  obser^xd.  And  then,  being 
things  of  value,  they  should  be  replanted  properly  in  suitable 
places;  if  not  needed  elsewhere,  roadside  waste  places  may 
be  beautified  with  them. 


NATURE'S  OFFERING  FOR  SPRING  PLANTING       203 

The  record  of  this  work  may  consist  of : 

1 .  In  the  case  of  seedlings,  such  data  as  the  following : 

a.  Statistics  of  the  number  of  seedlings  of  different 

sizes  in  a  given  area. 

b.  Map  showing  the  location  of  seedlings  in  relation 

to  the  parent  tree. 

c.  Diagrams  of  the  form  of  seedlings  of  different 

ages  and  grown  under  different  conditions. 

d.  Comparative  statement  concerning  all  the  differ- 

ent kinds  of  seedlings  found  and  the  years 
required  to  attain  to  "planting  size"  for  land- 
scape use. 

2.  In  the  case  of  vegetative  offshoots  of  the  various  sorts, 
such  data  as  the  following : 

a.  Diagram  of  the  principle  mode  of  new  plant 

production. 

b.  Records  for  all  the  forms  studied,  of  the  usual 

nimaber  of  new  shoots  produced  in  one  season 
from  a  single  crown;  also  the  length  of  these 
shoots  (as  determining  the  ability  of  the  species 
to  spread). 

3 .  In  the  case  of  all  the  foixas  studied,  a  tabular  statement 
under  column  headings  as  follows : 

Name  of  plant. 

-P,        .  ^       ^      ^  moisture. 

Reqiurement  as  to 


sunlight. 
Fruiting  age. 
Fruiting  size. 
Mode  of  increase. 
Time  of  flowering. 
Valued  for  what  decorative  quality. 
Limitations  as  to  its  use. 
Remarks. 


204  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

II.  The  program  of  work  may  better  consist  in  the  gather- 
ing of  wild  stulT  and  the  setting  of  it  in  permanent  plantings 
where  such  are  needed,  and  where  the  beautiful  wild  things, 
so  rapidly  disappearing,  may  be  presen'cd  for  future  genera- 
tions. Something  more  educational  than  the  ordinary  *'ivy 
day"  and  "arbor  day"  pcrfonnances  is  here  proposed,  tho  it 
should  have  the  same  patriotic  significance.  If  the  school 
have  a  ground-plan,  let  some  bit  of  ground,  some  bank  or 
border,  be  assigned  to  the  class  for  planting.  Let  the 
teacher  have  a  planting-plan  of  the  usual  sort,  but  lacking  the 
names  of  exotic  plants,  "^ath  only  the  size  and  character  of 
the  plants  indicated.  Let  teacher  and  class  together  seek 
out,  gather  and  plant  suitable  wild  things.  For  the  sake  of 
acquaintance  \sdth  the  plant  characters,  all  should  participate 
in  the  digging  of  the  stock.  The  resetting  may  often  better 
be  done  by  division  of  labor.  Wild  plants  should  be  obtained 
where  overcrowded  or  where  in  danger  of  extermination,  and 
those  that  are  flourishing  in  suitable  places  should  be  let 
alone.  Othcn\dse,  ill-considered  and  unsuccessful  efforts  at 
transplanting  may  only  hasten  their  extermination.  The 
best  success  with  trees  and  shrubs  will  lie  in  taking  them 
when  little  and  setting  them  first  in  a  nurser}^  and  gi\'ing  them 
time  to  grow. 

The  record  of  this  work  may  consist  in : 

1.  A  diagram  of  the  area  planted,  with  plants  named  in 
the  diagram. 

2.  A  table  of  characters  of  the  plants  used,  such  as  is 
indicated  under  3  above. 


XXVIII.     THE    CUT-OVER    WOODLAND    THICKET 

"For  there  is  hope  of  a  tree,  if  it  be  cut  down, 
that  it  will  sprout  again. 
And  that  the  tender  branch  thereof  will  not  cease; 
Though  the  root  thereof  wax  old  in  the  ground 
Yet  through  the  scent  of  water  it  will  hud 
And  put  forth  boughs  like  a  plant." 

—  The  book  of  Job,  36:14 

When  the  great  trees  are  felled,  and  the  forest  cover  is 
removed,  if  nothing  more  be  done,  no  plowing  or  pasturing, 
then  the  underlings  have  their  turn.  Weakling  dogwoods 
and  elders  and  other  shrubs  that  have  been  leading  a  lingering 
existence  under  the  shadow  of  the  oaks  and  elms,  take  a  new 
lease  on  life.  They  flourish  inordinately.  They  form  great 
climaps,  covered  with  bloom  in  summer  and  heavy  with  fruit 
in  autumn.  Their  stems  are  no  longer  thin  and  scattered, 
but  stout  and  aggressive.  They  spread  and  try  to  cover  the 
whole  of  the  area  on  which  before  they  had  such  a  slender 
hold. 

But  there  is  hope  of  a  tree — of  some  trees.  The  pine  tree 
dies  when  cut  down;  but  most  trees  sprout  again.  They 
send  up  a  circle  of  lusty  shoots,  which,  ere  the  end  of  the  first 
season,  are  competing  with  each  other  for  light  and  standing- 
room.  Ere  the  end  of  the  second  season,  the  biggest  sprouts 
are  overtopping  the  competing  shrubbery;  and  thereafter 
their  real  competition  is  with  each  other.  They  grow  and 
spread,  and  gradually  bring  the  imderling  slirubbery  into 
subjection  again. 

So,  after  the  cutting  of  a  wood,  the  first  season  it  looks  thin 
and  bare,  and  the  stumps  stand  out  boldh\  The  second 
season,  it  is  covered  with  copses  of  spreading  bushes  and 
clusters  of  sprouts  hiding  the  stumps.  For  a  few  succeeding 
seasons,  it  is  a  mixture,  indiscriminate  and  dense,  of  small 

205 


2o6  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

trees  and  bushes;  and  then\'iftcT  it  is  a  wood  a^^ain,  at  first 
impenetrably  dense,  but  after  many  years,  after  time  for  the 
formation  of  a  permanent  forest  cover  and  for  the  death  and 
removal  of  the  shaded  undergrowth,  it  becomes  open  and 
shadowy  again. 

The  thicket  is  thickest  at  the  time  when  the  shrubs  have 
reached  their  maxnnum  and  the  young  trees  are  beginning  to 
press  them  back  again;  and  at  no  time  is  a  wood  more 
interesting.  Here  one  may  sense  the  meaning  of  the  struggle 
for  existence,  the  peaceful,  eflective,  uncompromising,  eternal 
struggle  of  the  battlefield  of  nature.  Here  is  a  forest  society, 
composed  of  a  mixture  of  plants,  large  and  small,  that  have 
dwelt  together  for  ages.  It  is  temporarily  upset  by  the 
invasion  of  the  woodman's  ax,  and  is  in  process  of  readjust- 
ment— of  getting  its  balance  again.  Here  are  stumps  dead 
and  rotting,  and  other  stumps  green  and  sprouting.  Here  are 
poor  standing  remnants  of  a  former  forest  gro\Hh.  Here  are 
shrubs  that  once  struggled  along  in  the  shadow,  now  luxuri- 
ating in  the  light  and  crowding  one  another,  and  trying  to 
smother  the  small  trees  ere  they  get  their  heads  above  the 
general  coverlet  of  green.  Outside,  when  the  leaves  are  on,  it 
all  has  an  aspect  of  rich  verdure,  but  if  one  look  underneath, 
the  abundance  of  dead  stems  there  bears  testimony  of  the 
severity  of  the  struggle. 

Woody  plants  dominate  the  situation,  but  they  have 
herbaceous  associates,  dwelling  with  them  whether  the  cover 
be  forest  or  shrubbery.  In  the  leaf-mold  are  the  roots  of 
many  little  things — bloodroots  andtrilliums,  adder's-tongues, 
squirrel-corn,  and  other  early  blooming-flowers,  that  make 
the  most  of  the  spring  sunshine  before  the  upper  leaves  come 
out  to  shade  them.  Ferns,  also,  and  thin  wood  grasses  and 
sedges  and  slender  wood  asters  and  goldenrods  keep  their 
places  in  the  intcr\-als  between  the  clum])S,  persisting  through 
the  great  struggle  for  place  that  goes  on  over  their  heads. 


THE  CUT-OVER  WOODLAND  THICKET  207 

Study  28.    The  Cut-over  Woodland  Thicket 

A  patch  of  woodland  that  has  been  cut  over  rather  closely, 
and  left  for  som<e  years  untouched,  should  be  selected  for  this 
study.  Only  the  rnore  typical  portions  will  show  the  phe- 
nomena this  study  is  intended  to  illustrate.  The  invading 
population  of  the  roadways  and  more  open  places  may  be 
passed  by. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of: 

1 .  A  brief  examination  of  a  bit  of  natiu*al  uncut  woodland, 
especially  with  a  view  to  noting  the  condition  and  size  of  the 
plants  of  the  undergrowth  when  a  forest  cover  is  present ;  this 
to  serve  merely  as  a  basis  for  comparison. 

2.  A  more  detailed  examination  of  the  cut-over  tliicket, 
as  to  its  constituent  woody  plants,  their  size  and  condition  as 
indicating  the  natiu-e  of  the  struggle  for  existence  between 
them,  and  the  progress  of  forest  restoration. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1 .  A  diagram  of  a  vertical  section  of  a  typical  portion  of 
the  thicket,  including  tree-remnants,  sprouting  stiunps,  and 
shrubs,  large  and  small,  of  the  commoner  sorts,  in  their 
proper  relations.  Possibly  the  growth  may  be  such  that  a 
sprout  thicket  and  a  bush  thicket  may  be  better  shown 
separately  (Bramble  thickets,  being  the  special  subject  of 
Study  No.  44,  may  be  omitted  here). 

2.  An  annotated  list  of  the  woody  components  of  the 
thicket.  The  notes  should  include,  besides  name  (which 
instructor  will  furnish  if  needed),  kind  of  plant  (tree,  shrub 
or  vine),  growth-habit  (erect,  spreading,  climbing,  etc.), 
reproductive  method  (sprouts  from  stumps  or  from  the 
ground,  stolons,  etc.),  average  present  size  and  condition, 
relative  abundance,  with  special  indications  of  the  valuable 
tree  species  present,  and  remarks  on  the  chances  of  restora- 
tion of  valuable  woodland. 


XXIX.     THE    WILD    SPRING    FLOWERS    OF    THE 

FARM 

' '  Take  of  my  violets!     I  found  them  where 
The  liquid  south  stole  o'er  them,  on  a  bank 
That  leaned  to  running  water.     There's  to  me 
A  daintiness  about  these  early  flowers. 
That  touches  me  like  poetry.     They  blow 
With  such  a  simple  loveliness  among 
The  common  herbs  of  pasture,  and  breathe  out 
Their  lives  so  unobtrusively,  like  hearts 
Whose  beatings  are  too  gentle  for  the  world." 

— Nathaniel  Parker  Willis  (April). 

Warm  sunshine,  and  the  breath  of  a  soft  wind  from  the 
south,  and  rills  murmuring  in  every  glen,  and — surely  there 
must  be  wild  flowers  blooming  in  the  woods.  Let  us  go  out 
and  find  them.  Some,  like  the  hepaticas,  will  be  peeping 
from  under  the  woodland  carpet  of  sodden  brown  lea\'es— 
peeping  with  eyes  of  a  soft  capti\-ating  bab}'-blue.  Some, 
like  the  anemones,  will  be  lifting  their  leafy  sprays  of  pearly 
white  blossoms  on  grassy  banks,  in  tufts  of  exquisite  grace. 
Some,  like  the  marsh-marigolds,  will  be  spreading  their 
shining  leaves  and  bright  golden  flowers  by  the  waterside 
in  cheerful  array.  Each  in  its  ovm  w^ay  is  brightening  some 
imspoiled  spot  of  earth;  and  every  year,  in  sjjring,  all  are 
ready  to  greet  and  to  cheer  us  again,  like  old  friends.  After 
the  barren  winter,  how  welcome  they  are ! 

How  diilerent  they  are  in  their  behavior!  The  fugitive 
flower  of  bloodroot  shoots  upward  encased  in  a  single  huge 
leaf,  which  then  spreads  out  its  broadly  sealloix^d  border, 
making  a  fine  backgroimd  for  a  fine  blossom.  The  adder 's- 
tongue  shoots  out  on  its  long  slender  stalk  from  between  two 
spotted  leaves.  The  trillium  flower  unfolds  from  between 
a  whorl  of  three  green  leaves,  held  at  the  top  of  an  erect 
stem.     These  flowers  come  singly.     But  the  flowers  of  the 

208 


THE  WILD  SPRING  FLOWERS  OF  THE  FARM        209 

hepatica  come  all  in  a  troop  and  imattended;  the  leaves  of 
the  past  season,  still  green,  lie  prone  about  them;  those  of 
the  coming  season  will  shortly  rise  and  expand — indeed,  ere 
the  flowers  have  faded,  a  new  crop  of  leaves  may  be  seen 
lifting  their  fuzzy  tips  all  together.  For  hepatica  has  the 
curious  habit  of  producing  its  entire  crop  of  leaves,  as  by  a 
single  mighty  effort,  all  at  once,  and  holding  them  until  the 
next  annual  crop  is  matured. 

Most  spring  flowers  tend  to  form  clumps  or  great  masses 
in  the  woods,  and  to  this  habit  many  charming  effects  in 
wild-wood  landscapes  are  due.  Think  of  the  banks  you 
have  seen  of  moss-pink,  or  trilliimi,  or  columbine;  the 
levels  covered  with  violets  or  bloodroot  or  spring 
beauty!  Mandrakes  are  gregarious  and  flock  together 
like  sheep .  They  hang  their  big  white  flowers  coyly  under  huge 
umbrella-shaped  leaves,  and  make  a  beautiful  ground-cover 
of  shining  green  domes.  Wild  ginger  also,  hides  its  curious 
brown-purple  flowers  under  a  beautiftd  leaf -mosaic  at  the 
very  surface  of  the  ground.  The  big  white  trillium  lets  its 
flowers  lop  over  on  one  side  and  holds  them  until  they 
turn  rose-purple  in  fading. 

It  is  not  flowers  alone  for  which  these  plants  are  desir- 
able. Their  foliage  is  often  of  beautiful  design.  Where 
can  there  be  found  stronger  simple  outlines  than  those  of 
the  leaves  of  the  hepatica,  bloodroot  or  bird's-foot  violet? 
Where,  more  airy,  lacy  effects  than  in  the  foliage  of  squirrel- 
corn,  anemonella,  and  early  meadow-rue?  Where,  softer 
leaf  colorings  than  in  adder 's-tongue,  hepatica  or  the  spathe 
of  Jack-in-the-pulpit  ?  The  flower  of  the  wild  columbine  is 
splendid — and  worthy  of  having  been  advocated  for  adop- 
tion as  the  flower  of  the  nation — but  it  is  hardly  more 
pleasing  than  the  finely  cut,  gracefully  poised,  silvery 
tinted  foliage,  which  lasts  all  summer  long.  Some  bulbous- 
rooted  spring  flowers,  to  be  sure,  lose  their  foliage  before 


210 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Fic.  SI.     Hrpatica. 


niidsimuiuT,  and  disa|)])car  iittcrl\'  above  ground  until 
spring  comes  around  again;  such  are  adder's  tongue  and 
Dutclinian's  breeches,  and 
others  that  grow  in  the  deep- 
est shades  of  the  woods.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  foHage 
of  hepaticas  and  moss-pink 
is  evergreen. 

Fine  as  are  these  \\ild 
flowers,  they  are  rapidly  being 
exterminated.  Their  value  is 
esthetic,  not  commercial.  The 
land  they  occupy  is  all  being 
taken  from  them  for  fields 
and  stock-pens.  Long  since, 
they  were    driven  from   our 

doors.  Of  late,  with  the  pressure  of  men  for  room,  with  the 
extension  of  fields,  and  especially  with  the  pasturing  of  every 
bit  of  woodland,  they  are  being  extenninated  in  their  last 
retreats.  The  time  is  coming  when,  if  we  would  save  them 
for  our  posterity,  we  must  get  them  back  aUout  our  doors 
again,  where  we  can  propagate  them  and  protect  them  from 
utter  annihilation.  They  will  grow  there  as  well  as  in  the 
woods,  if  planted  in  suitable  places.  Of  course,  they  mil  not 
grow  on  a  smoothly  mown  lawn;  but  possibly  the  present 
zeal  for  leveling  ever}i:hing  and.  having  only  mown  la%\'ns 
about  one's  place  may  yet  develop  into  something  better. 
Far  more  beautifid  than  grass  as  a  ground-co\er  for  the 
moist  bank  or  for  the  shady  place  where  there  is  no  trampling, 
is  a  growth  of  cominon  blue  violets  or  of  bloodroot  or  of 
wild  ginger.  Finer  than  any  grass,  for  covering  a  dry  sunny 
bank,  is  a  close  gray-green  carpet  of  moss-pink.  Why  should 
one  drain  the  low  wet  spot  on  his  groimds,  when  he  may,  by 
]^roperly  planting  it,   ha\'e   thcr(\   through  the   season,   a 


THE  WILD  SPRING  FLOWERS  OF  THE  FARM 


211 


succession  of  such  beautiful  flowers  as  the  marsh-marigolds, 
lady's-slippers.  cardinal-flowers,  and  hibiscus,  maintained 
with  a  minimum  of  care.  Why  reduce  everything  to  this 
dead  level  of  artificial  mediocrity? 

One  should  not  *'rob  the  woods,"  where  wild  flowers 
remain,  and  selfishly  deprive  others  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
them  there.  It  is  better  to  raise  them  from  seeds,  or  to  buy 
from  a  dealer  who  raises  them  from  seeds  (and  not  from  one 
who  is  making  a  business  of  robbing  the  woods).  But  often 
when  a  wood  is  being  cleared  for  plowing,  or  a  new  road  is 
building,  the  wild  flowers  about  to  be  destroyed  may  be 
taken  up  and  given  a  place  of  refuge  in  private  grounds. 

Success  wdth  growing  wild  flowers  depends  on  one's 
ability  to  take  a  hint  from  nature.  Every  plant  has  its 
requirements  of  light  and  moisture,  and  one  may  Icam  what 
these  are  by  observing  under  what  conditions  it  thrives 
best  when  wild.  It  is  a  waste  of  time  and  labor,  and  an 
advertisement  of  stupidity,  to  set  out  wild  plants  where  they 
cannot  possibly  live.  They  are  far  better  suited  to  informal 
plantings  than  are  expensive  exotics,  and  once  established 
in  suitable  places  they  are  practically  self-sustaining. 

Fortimately  the  wood-crop  and  the  wild  flowers  grow 
well  together,  and  flourish  on  rough  land  not  suitable  for 
tillage.  Fortunately  for  the  wild  flowers,  also,  farmers  are 
learning  that  the  woodlot  is  more  productive  when  not 
closely  pastured.  Often  it  has  seemed  to  be  the  policy  of 
the  farmer  to  include  every  bit  of  rough  woodland,  however 
little  forage  it  might  afford,  inside  his  pasture  fence,  on  the 
general  theory  that  every  green  thing  his  cattle  might  eat 
was  clear  gain  to  him.  But  of  how  much  value  in  the  diet 
of  an  ox  is  a  handful  of  lilies  ?  Yet  if  they  be  eaten  or  tramjv 
led  out  of  existence,  how  much  beauty  is  lost!  On  many 
farms  a  better  spirit  of  enlightenment  prevails.  The  woodlot 
is  outside  the  pasture  fence;    and,  protected  from  grazing 


212  NATUR.-\L  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

and  trampling  and  fires,  the  wild  tilings  again  take  possession 
of  the  banks  and  dells  and  ledges.  It  is  at  once  a  better 
woodlot  and  a  wild  flower  rescr\'ation,  and  ser\-es  both  use 
and  beauty.  Hai)]^ily,  the  day  is  passing,  when  to  help 
fill  the  paunch  of  some  cattle-beast  will  be  considered  the 
chief  end  of  every  green  thing  growing  ^^'ild  on  the  fann. 

Study  29.     Wild  Spring  Flowers  of  the  Farm 

The  program  of  the  work  for  this  study  w  ill  consist  of  a 
visit  to  some  native  bit  of  woodland  where  the  \\-ild  life  has 
not  been  extenninated,  and  of  an  examination  of  the  wild 
flowers,  one  by  one,  observing  where  they  grow  and  what 
manner  of  life  they  lead. 

The  record  of  this  study  ma\'  consist  of: 

1.  A  map  of  a  small  woodland  glade,  with  indications 
thereon  of  the  distribution  of  the  common  kinds  of  wild 
flowers  in  relation  to  slope,  moisture,  shade  and  forest  cover. 

2.  A  table  of  all  the  wild  flowers  found,  prepared  with 
some  such  coltunn  headings  as  the  following: 

Name   (ask  instructor  if  you  do  not  know  it). 

Stem    (erect,    trailing,    creeping,    underground,    simple, 

branched,  leafy,  naked,  etc.). 
Flower  (color,  odor,  form,  size,  etc.). 
Flower-cluster     (diagram). 
Foliage  (leaf -form,  color,  texture,  etc.). 
Situation     (wet  or  dry,  in  sun  or  in  shade). 
Social  habit     (Solitary,  commingling,  cover-fonning,  etc.). 
Remarks. 

"  'That  little  patch,*  said  a  successful  flower-grower  to  me  the  other 
day,  pointing  to  a  bed  of  some  rare  daffodils  about  four  fcn^t  by  five,  *is 
worth  fifty  pound?.'  I  tried  to  look  duly  impressed:  but  I  bethought 
me  of  a  certain  streamlet  thickly,  but  not  too  thickly,  edged  with  king- 
cups, which,  if  human  delight  were  the  measure  of  value,  must  have 
been  worth  fully  fifty  millions." — Hubert  P.  Bland. 


XXX.     WHAT  GOES  ON  IN  THE  APPLE  BLOSSOMS 

*' Around  old  homesteads  clustering  thick  they  shed 

Their  sweets  to  miirm'rifig  bees; 
And  o'er  hushed  lanes  and  wayside  fountains  spread 
Their  pictured  canopies.''' 

— Horatio  H.  Powers  {Apple  Blossoms) 

Sweet  is  the  scent  of  the  orchard  in  May.  When  the  apple 
trees  array  themselves  in  pink  and  white  it  is  the  time  of  a 
great  annual  festival.  The  apple  tree  is  host.  In  every  one 
of  its  florets  a  place  is  spread  for  a  little  winged  guest.  The 
food  is  nectar  and  pollen,  provided  in  lavish  abundance.  A 
brilliant  company  of  bees  and  flies  and  butterflies  are  guests. 
The  merry  activity  runs  for  days  together,  heightening  when 
the  sun  shines  brightly.  It  is  held  at  the  opening  of  the 
summer  season,  and  the  serious  work  of  producing  an  apple 
crop  is  dependent  on  the  good  will  and  patronage  of  these 
visiting  insects. 

For,  not  all  the  pollen  is  eaten  by  them.  Some  of  it  is 
carried  on  their  bodies  and  implanted  on  the  stigmas  of  the 
flowers,  where  its  growth  results  in  the  fertilization  of  the 
ovules ;  this  conditions  the  development  of  fruit.  To  secure 
this  service,  which  the  insects  render  unwittingly  while  satis- 
fying their  own  appetites,  the  apple  tree  advertises  its  feast 
by  fringing  each  flower  with  a  circlet  of  pinlc  and  wliite  petals, 
hung  out  gaily  like  banners,  and  sets  a  green  dish  in  the  center 
filled  with  drops  of  fragrant  nectar,  which  perfumes  the  pass- 
ing breeze.  It  also  provides  pollen  greatly  in  excess  of  its 
own  needs  and  offers  great  bursting  anthers  full  of  it.  Then 
the  bees  come. 

A  honey-bee  alights  on  the  edge  of  a  flower  with  her  hind 
feet  clutching  the  petals  and  her  head  thrust  in  among  the 
stamens.     She  would  like  nectar;    so  she  unslings  her  long 

213 


214 


NATURAL  HIST(JRY  OF  THE  FARM 


proboscis  and  thrusts  its  tip  dow-nward  between  the  bases  of 
the  stamens  into  the  nectar  dish,  lap])ing  up  wliat  she  can 
reach.  Then  she  raises  her  head  and  puslies  her  body 
through  and  over  the  central  clunip  of  stamens  and  st>'le  tips, 
and  makes  another  downward  thrust  on^  the  other  side.  In 
doing  this,  she  brushes  roughly  against  bursting  anthers, 
filling  the  hairy  coat  of  her  body  and  legs  with  pollen;  and 
she  rubs  stigmas,  also,  depositing  pollen  u])()n  their  moist 
tips. 

Figure  83  shows 
where  the  nectar  is, 
and  ex])lains  these 
movements  of  the  bees. 
The  nectar  is  in  a  basin, 
out  of  the  center  of 
which  arise  the  fi\'e 
stout  styles,  and  it  is 
fenced  round  aboiit  by 
a  close-set  palisade  of 
stamens.  It  can  be 
reached  only  from  above.  It  caimot  all  be  reached  from  any 
one  position  (hence  the  successi\^e  tlirusts  of  the  bee  into  the 
flower).  Owing  to  the  close  crowding  of  the  stamens  and 
pistils,  it  can  only  be  reached  by  a  slender  proboscis.  This 
feast  is  not  to  be  wasted  on  any  wandering  insect  that  may 
come  along;  it  is  reserv^ed  for  those  that  are  endowed  with 
suitable  nectar-gathering  apparatus. 

A  little  burrowing  bee,  Halicius  by  name,  descends  upon 
the  flower  and  goes  tip- toeing  upon  the  top  of  the  stamen 
cluster.  She  has  a  short  proboscis  that  is  quite  unequal  to 
reaching  do^^"n  to  the  nectar-cup:  so  she  gathers  i^ollen  and 
in  trampling  about  over  the  anthers  tramples  the  stigmas  as 
well  and  de]X)sits  pollen  on  them.  A  little  grecn-and-gold 
bee,    Augochlora  by    name,  of   size    intennediate  between 


Fig.  83.  Diagram  of  a  section  of  an  apple  blos- 
som, j,  sepal;  k,  petal;  /  ,  anthers;  m,  stigmas; 
n,  nectar. 


WHAT  GOES  ON  IN  THE  APPLE  BLOSSOMS  215 

the  little  halictus  and  the  honey-bee,  settling  upon  the 
stamens,  spreads  them  with  her  feet  and  pushes  head  down- 
ward between  until  her  not  very  long  proboscis  reaches  the 
nectar  in  the  cup  below.  Bees  are  the  most  important  pollen 
distributors  for  apple  blossoms:  the  larger  ones  seek  both 
nectar  and  pollen;  the  lesser  ones,  pollen  only.  Bees  go 
about  the  work  in  a  brisk  business-like  way,  passing  rapidly 
and  directly  from  flower  to  flower,  visiting  many  in  ra.\nd 
succession  and  gleaning  their  food  products  thoroly.  They 
are  little  disturbed  by  a  person  quietly  watching  them. 

Perhaps  the  possession 
of  a  sting  may  ha\'e 
something  to  do  with 
this  assurance  of  man- 
ner. 

At  any  rate,  the  sting- 
less  visitors  of  the  apple 
blossoms,  true  flies  and 
butterflies,  behave  very 
differently.  They  flit 
^^afte^/ketcaf).^^"'  ""^  ^^''''"'  -«-/—.  ^^out  ncrvously,  mak- 
ing circuitous  flights 
between  visits,  and  manifesting  great  wariness.  A  hand- 
some banded  syrphus-fly  (fig.  84)  settles  Hghtly  upon  the 
stamens  and  laps  up  a  little  pollen  with  his  proboscis  and 
is  away  again,  being  gone  before  one  has  discovered  that 
he  is  taking  flight.  A  pretty  nimble  bee-fly  darts  up  to  a 
flower,  makes  a  thrust  or  two  at  the  nectar-cup  with  its 
exceedingly  slender  proboscis,  and  is  away  again.  A  fine 
butterfly  soars  overhead,  and  finally  settles  upon  a  flower 
cluster  as  if  by  accident,  and  sits  there  languidly  dipping 
the  tip  of  his  uncoiled  proboscis  into  such  nectar  cups  as 
are  in  reach.  Having  greater  length  of  proboscis  than  the 
apple  flower  demands,  he  swings  it  around  like  a  dipping- 
crane.     But  he  also  darts  away  at  the  passing  of  a  shadow. 


2i6  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

The  pollen  of  the  apple  is  freely  exposed,  and  there  are  many 
chance  \'isitors  that  nibble  at  it,  such  as  house-flies  and 
beetles.  But  the  insects  that  can  reach  the  nectar  are 
rather  few.  Bumblebees  and  hone}'bees  arc  the  most 
persistent  and  efficient  distributors  of  jx^llon.  All  the  bees 
are  equipped  for  carr}'ing  i:)ollcn  abundantl\'  b\'  reason  of  the 
bristb'  plumose  hairs  that  clothe  their  bodies,  and  tliat  make 
veritable  pollen  brushes  (see  figs.  105  and  106). 

When  rain  falls  constantly  in  blossojning  tuinc,  the  apple 
trees  set  little  fruit  because  the  bees  are  kci)t  awa>'  from 
them:  but  when  the  sun  shines,  the  busy  hiun  of  their 
prodigious  acti\4t}'  is  the  sure  forerunner  of  an  apple  crop. 

Study    30.     Observations    on   Apple   Blossoms   and  Their 

Visitors 

Tliis  study  should  be  begim  at  home,  where  one  may  sit 
at  a  table  and  work  carefully.  With  a  bunch  of  fresh  apple 
blossoms  in  hand,  notice  first  the  difference  in  condition  of  the 
flowers,  from  fresh  unopened  buds  to  spent  flowers  with 
falling  petals.  Observe  especially  the  condition  of  the  tips  in 
the  central  cluster  of  stamens  and  pistils— the  yellowish 
anthers  capping  the  nuinerous  stamens,  and  the  naked 
stigmatic  surfaces  terminating  the  five  pistils.  Note  care- 
fully the  changes  of  position  and  of  condition  during  flower- 
ing. Then  split  several  flowers  of  different  age  in  halves, 
lengthwise,  and  look  with  a  lens  in  the  shallow  green  cup 
surrounding  the  pistils  and  encircled  by  the  bases  of  the 
stamens  for  shining  droj^lcts  of  nectar.  Tlicn  make  a  dia- 
grajn  of  such  a  section,  showing  carefully  the  relative 
position  of  anthers,  stigmas  and  nectar  at  time  of  full 
bloom. 

The  field  work  of  this  study  will  require  fit  weather.  A 
calm  bright  day  \\'iU  be  best.  Rain  will  dri\'e  the  flower 
visitors  away,  and  too  much  wind  will  interfere  with  observa- 


WHAT  GOES  ON  IN  THE  APPLE  BLOSSOMS  217 

tions  on  them.     The  tools  needed  will  be  indi\ddual  insect 
nets,  C3^anide  bottles*  and  lenses. 

The  program  of  field  work  will  consist  of  a  visit  to  apple 
trees  in  full  bloom  and  observations  on  the  doings  of  the 
flower  visitors.  Trees  with  low-hanging  boughs,  having 
abuadant  blossoms  within  reach  from  the  ground,  will  be  best. 
If  wild  crab-apple  trees  or  even  haw-apples  are  more  con- 
venient, they  will  serve  equally  well.  The  visitors  will  be 
seen,  coming  and  going,  or  flitting  from  flower  to  flower,  each 
kind  after  its  o^^^l  habit.  The  bees  may  be  captured  in  a 
cyanide  bottle  directly,  but  the  more  wary  flies  and  butterflies 
will  require  the  use  of  the  net.  A  quick  deft  stroke  will 
land  them  in  the  net,  and  a  quick  turn  of  the  handle  will  make 
a  fold  in  it  and  keep  them  in  the  bottom  until  they  can  be 
removed  in  a  cyanide  bottle,  inserted  unstoppered  for  the 
purpose.  Effort  should  be  concentrated  on  watching  the 
insects,  not  on  catching  them.  Their  conaings  and  goings 
and  how  they  obtain  the  nectar,  should  be  observed  care- 
fully. Then  a  specimen  of  each  kind  of  visitor  should  be 
captured  for  identification. 

The  record  of  this  study  should  consist  of : 

1.  A  diagram  of  a  longitudinal  section  of  the  flower  as 
mentioned  above. 

2.  A  similar  diagram,  with  a  bee  added  in  the  position 
taken  when  obtaining  nectar.  Show  position  of  proboscis 
and  feet  carefully. 

*A  cyanide  bottle  for  killing  insects  may  be  made  by  placing  half  an 
ounce,  more  or  less,  of  cyanide  of  potassium  (a  deadly  poison)  in  the 
bottom  of  any  wide-mouthed  bottle,  covering  it  with  dry  sawdust  or 
other  good  absorbent,  pressing  down  on  top  of  it  a  few  discs  of  stiff 
blotting  paper,  and  affixing  a  POISON  label.  The  discs  should  fit  the 
inside  of  the  bottle  tightly  and  will  stay  in  place  better  if  Hghtly  gummed 
at  their  edges  when  inserted.  Most  insects  are  very  quickly  killed  when 
shut  inside.  The  nets  also  may  be  made  at  home  but  not  so  easily. 
Those  offered  by  the  Simplex  Net  Company  of  Ithaca,  New  York,  are 
recommended  as  being  light,  strong  and  inexpensive. 


2i8  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

3.  A  list  of  all  the  apple  blossom  \nsitors  ol3served,  with 
data  as  far  as  obtainable  incorporated  in  a  talkie  prepared 
with  the  following  coliunn  headings: 

Name  (of  the  insect;    ask  the  instructor  if  you  do  not 

know  it). 
Seeking  (pollen  or  nectar.     Do  not  guess  at  tliis;    better 

leave  the  space  blank). 
Alights  where  (touching  what  parts  of  the  flower). 
Carries  pollen  on  (what  parts  of  the  body). 
Touches  stigmas  with  (what  parts  of  the  body). 
Reaches  nectar  with  (what  proportion  of  proboscis,  or  of 
whole  body,  inserted  into  the  flower) 
per  minute. 
Nimiber  of  flowers  visited   -  between  flights  (i.e.  between 

the  longer  flights). 
Activity  (relatively  quick  or  slow,  vcsltj  or  approachable, 

direct  or  circuitous,  etc.). 
Fitness  (well  or  ill-adapted  for  pollinating  apple  blossoms). 

If  there  be  any  diffictdty  arising  out  of  the  crowd,  conclud- 
ing observations  may,  with  advantage,  be  made  individually, 
at  one's  o\\ti  convenience. 


XXXI.     THE  SONG-BIRDS   OF  THE   FARM 

'^The  woods  were  filled  so  full  of  song 
There  seemed  no  room  for  sense  of  wrong." 

— Tennyson. 

Nothing  is  more  natiiral  than  that  we  shotdd  be  interested 
in  birds.  Their  appeal  to  us  is  manifold.  Their  colors  are 
beautiftd,  and  the  texture  and  design  of  their  garb  are  elegant 
beyond  comparison.  Their  sprightliness  is  wonderful.  They 
flit  from  morning  till  night  unceasingly,  and  traverse  the  air 
with  a  freedom  that  often  moves  us  to  say,  enviously,  with 
Darius  Green,  * 'Birds  can  fly,  and  why  can't  I?"  When  we 
shall  have  * 'conquered  the  air",  our  flying  bids  fair  to  be 
serious  work  rather  than  play,  such  as  theirs  is.  Their  songs 
are  the  finest  vocal  expressions  of  the  animal  world — expres- 
sions apparently  of  contentment,  of  tender  sentiments  and  of 
exuberant  joy.  Their  nests  show  fine  discrimination  in  the 
selection  and  use  of  materials,  artistic  sense  of  decorative 
values,  and  in  their  construction  they  disclose  the  elements  of 
basketry  and  carpentry,  and  of  both  plastic  and  textile  art. 
Their  family  life  is  nearly  ideal ;  the  fidelity  of  mates  to  each 
other  and  the  devotion  of  parents  to  tjheir  brood  being  such 
as  himian  society  aspires  to,  but  has  not  yet  fully  attained. 

And  if  aU  these  things  were  not  enough,  there  would  still 
remain  the  practical  consideration  that  birds  aid  us  in  our 
agriculture.  They  feed  on  insect  pests  of  field  and  orchard; 
and  if  any  one  were  so  devoid  of  sentiment  as  not  to  like  a 
robin  singing  from  the  housetop,  he  might  still  appreciate  the 
bird  when  found  devouring  cutworms  in  the  garden.  It  is 
not  economic,  but  esthetic  values,  however,  that  are  to  be  the 
subject  of  this  study.  Let  us  get  acquainted  with  the  birds 
dwelling  near  us  for  the  sake  of  the  pleasure  to  be  had  from 
personally  knowing  creatures  so  beautiful,  so  timeful  and  so 
artful. 

219 


220 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


This  is  the  a^e  of  birds.  They  outnumber,  in  species,  all 
other  air-breathing  vertebrates  put  together.  Doubtless, 
their  ability  to  fly  and  there!  >y  to  find  food  an'd  to  escape 
enemies  lias  had  much  to  (1( )  with  this  prcponderence.  Hardly 
any  other  li\-ing  things  have  acquired  such  power  of  flight, 
and  no  others  have  established  regular  seasonal 
migi'ations  between  summer  and  winter  homes. 
A  hundred  or  more  species  may  be  found  in  any 
good  locality  in  the  course  of  a  year — more  than 
half  of  them,  song-birds.  A  few  are  pennanent 
residents ;  a  few  are  winter  visitors  from  the  far 
north;  many  are  transient  visitors  that  winter 
south  of  us  and  summer  north  of  us,  and  a  sub- 
stantial ntmiber,  including  all  the  song-birds  that 
we  value  most  higWy,  are  summer  residents. 
These  return  to  us  e\'er3^  spring  and  settle  and 
build  nests  and  sing  and  rear  their  broods.  Who 
does  not  feel  a  thrill  of  pleasure  at  the  return 
of  the  bluebird,  that  soft-voiced  harbinger  of 
spring  ? 

Wild  birds  they  are,  yet  they  do  not  mind  our 

presence  if  we  treat  them  well.     And  a  number 

of  the  most  charming  little  birds  will  settle  near 

us  and  remain  with  us  year  after   year  if  we 

provide  them  suitable  places  for  nest  builcHng,  located  in 

safe  and  congenial  surroundings. 

It  is  a  ]:)leasant  aspect  of  evolution  to  contemplate  that  the 
birds  we  like  best — the  birds  that  sing  and  that  fashion  beauti- 
ful nests  and  rear  their  young  with  most  parental  care — are  the 
ones  that  have  been  and  are  most  successful  in  the  race  of  life. 
While  a  number  of  the  smaller  birds  look  much  alike  on 
first  approach,  each  species  has  its  distinguishing  peculiarities 
that  a  little  careful  obsen^ation  will  reveal — peculiarities  of 
color  and  attitude,  of  flight  and  of  notes,  of  haunts  and  of 


Fig.  85. 
Simple  types 
of  home- 
made nest- 
ing boxes 
for  birds. 


THE  SONG-BIRDS  OF  THE  FARAI  221 

manners  toward  man  and  toward  each  other.  A  few,  Hke  the 
crow  and  the  jay,  are  so  well  marked  as  not  to  be  mistaken. 
The  habit  of  running  head  downward  along  the  bark  of  a  tree 
at  once  marks  a  bird  as  either  a  nuthatch  or  a  creeper.  The 
songs  are  perfectly  specific,  and  will  often  lead  the  careful 
observer  to  the  bird  he  is  wishing  to  see.  There  is  no  need  of 
attempting  to  describe  differences  here ;  for  a  morning  in  the 
field  with  the  birds  is  w^orth  more  than  all  the  descriptions. 

Study  31.    Song-birds  of  the  Farm 

This  study  is  intended  primarily  for  those  who  do  not  know 
the  local  song-birds  at  sight.*  An  instructor  who  knows 
them  is  assumed;  yet  the  student  working  alone  may  easily 
do  what  is  here  outlined  and  identify  his  birds  with  the  aid 
of  some  of  the  excellent  bird  books  now  generally  available. 
Field  glasses  (or  opera  glasses)  while  not  absolutely  necessary 
will  be  a  great  aid  in  field  work  on  birds.  Dry  weather  will 
be  desirable,  and  a  shift  of  meeting  time  to  an  early  morning 
hour  (when  birds  are  most  in  evidence)  may  be  advantageous. 
Prepared  bird-skins  may  be  used  by  the  instructor  in  point- 
ing out  recognition  characters. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  short  trip  made 
quietly  along  some  woodsy  lane  where  birds  congregate,  and 
across  upland  and  lowland  meadows  and  by  a  willow-bor- 
dered stream,  observing  the  different  species  of  song-birds, 
one  by  one,  as  opportunity  offers.  Careful  obser\"ation3  will 
be  needed  to  obtain  the  data  called  for  by  the  table  out- 
lined below. 


*For  such  members  of  the  class  as  know  the  birds  well,  the  instructor 
may  assign  other  work,  such  as  intensive  specific  obser\'ations  on  some 
one  species  of  bird  temporarily  abundant  and  not  too  well  known; 
observations  on  such  matters  as  its  haunts  and  nesting  habits,  food  and 
feeding  habits,  voice  and  social  habits,  enemies  and  warning  habits  and 
mode  ot  escape.etc.  Or,  better,  such  extended  individual  work  as  is 
outlined  in  Optional  Study  6  on  page  229. 


222  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THi:  FARM 

The  record  of    this    study   may   consist   of   a   table    of 
recognition   characters    of  local  song-birds,    prepared  with 
coliLinn  headings  as  follows: 
Name  of  bird. 

Haunts  (be  as  specific  as  the  facts  will  warrant  in  indicating 
the  kind  of  cover  sought,  and  the  habitual  ek'\'ation,  whether 
in  the  treetops  or  on  the  tnmlvs,  in  the  undergrowth  or  on  the 
ground,  whether  near  or  far  from  water,  etc.) 

At  rest  (give  general  color  and  chief 

markings  with  their  location  on  the 

body — only  such  as  can  be  seen  at 

a  short  distance  on  the  living  bird). 

In  flight  ("flash  colors";    i.  e.,  addi- 

itional  marldngs  that   appear    in 

outspread  wings  and  tail). 

Perching  attitude. 

Social  habit   (nuinbcr   seen  together,    resting   or   fljdng. 

State  sex,  also,  when  distinguishable) . 
Voice  (briefly  characterize  notes  of  monologue,  of  social 

converse  and  of  song) . 
Flight   (undulating,   straight   or   soaring:      wing-strokes, 

continuous  or  intennittcnt,  etc.). 
Familiarity  (how  close   can   you  approach:     estimate  in 

yards). 
Remarks. 


Recognition  colors 


XXXII.     TREES  IN  THE  EARLY  SUMMER 
LANDSCAPE 

^'The  birch  tree  throws  a  scarf  of  green 
•  Around  her  silver  white, 

Woven  of  little  polished  leaves 

All  delicate  and  bright, 
It  sways  with  every  passing  air 
And  shimmers  in  the  light. 

Oh,  like  a  Dryad  nymph  she  stands, 

The  birch  tree,  silver  white! 
And  all  day  long  that  flowing  veil 

Trembles  for  my  delight. 
She  stirs  it  as  she  moves  in  it 
As  a  young  maiden  might.'' 

— Ethel  Barstow  Howard  (The  Fairy  Tree). 

Out  in  the  coiintr}^  wherever  we  go,  trees  rise  about  us 
and  bound  our  view.  They  make  vistas  along  the  road- 
ways; they  fringe  the  streams;  and  they  gracefully  mass 
themselves  about  the  shores  of  lakes  and  bays.  In  a  new 
country,  they  cover  the  valley-side  with  a  rich  robe  of  green, 
and  in  an  old  country,  they  rise  like  oases  about  the  homes 
that  nestle  among  the  cleared  fields.  In  their  shelter  our 
race  has  always  dwelt.  When  men  settle  upon  a  treeless 
prairie,  they  take  trees  with  them  and  plant  them  cosily 
about  for  shelter,  and  use  them  to  make  a  pleasing  out- 
look by  bordering  the  view  from  the  windows  of  their  homes. 

Trees  furnish  the  chief  elements  of  beauty  in  most  land- 
scapes, and  usually  those  views  are  the  most  pleasing  that 
include  the  most  trees.  Near  at  hand,  they  rise  about  us 
like  the  giants  that  they  are,  and  show  their  individual 
characters — their  mighty  trunks  clad  in  bark,  each  with 
its  own  coloring  and  sculpturing;  their  great  anns  and 
crowns;  and  the  elegant  outlines  of  their  leafy  sprays  out- 
spread against  the  sky.      At  a  little  distance  they  appear, 

223 


224  XATUFLVL  HISTORY  OP  THE  FARM 

not  as  indi\'i duals,  but  as  masses,  with  their  architecture 
hidden,  and  their  foHage  piled  in  shocks  of  green,  full  of 
lights  and  shadows.  And  on  the  far  horizon  they  are  still 
in  our  \'iew,  si^read  out  in  innumerable  companies  in  a 
long  thin  line  where  overspread  with  pale  haze. 

The  well-grown  cliunp  of  trees  shows  us,  from  the  out- 
side, only  its  leaves,  with  just  enough  of  glimi^ses  of  supijort- 
ing  framework  to  suggest  stabiHty.  The  leaves  are  all  on 
the  outside,  spread  out  broadly  to  the  sun.  We  put  our 
head  through  the  leafy  cover  to  the  inside  and  look  up — and 
it  is  like  looking  into  an  attic,  seeing  beams  and  rafters  in- 
stead of  familiar  roofs.  Inside  all  is  gray  bare  boughs 
forking,  and  forking  again,  and  stretching  up  to  and  sup- 
porting the  overshadowing  leaf -cover.  We  examine  the 
outside  carefully,  and  w^e  see  that  all  the  leaves  are  mutually 
adjusted  to  get  the  maximum  benefit  from  the  light.  The 
removal  of  a  single  leaf  alters  and  mars  the  adjustment; 
the  overtiuTL  of  a  single  spray  sets  it  grotesquely  awr\\ 

How  the  outside  of  a  tree  appears  in  the  foreground  of  the 
landscape,  depends  on  the  size  and  form  and  niunber  of  its 
leaves,  and  on  the  way  they  are  held  up  into  the  light.  Foli- 
age masses  are  endlessly  varied.  They  are  ciunulous  niasses 
in  the  sugar-maple — ^masses  of  broad,  shade-resistant  leaves 
heaped  u])  and  compound-heaped  hke  the  front  of  a  thunder- 
cloud. They  are  cancellate  masses  in  the  white  birch,  with 
its  small  thin  lea\-es  in  open  order  like  latticework.  They 
are  frondose  masses  in  ailanthus  and  sumac  and  oilier  trees 
ha\'ing  compound  leaves.  They  are  soft  and  fun-y  c\iinders, 
rather  s^Tnmetrically  arranged,  in  the  spruces  and  tamarack; 
and  other  trees  show  all  grades  between  these  tyix^s.  Hick- 
ories are  given  to  be  a  bit  irregular,  and  to  hold  their  sprays 
rather  stiffly,  while  the  beech  lets  the  fringe  of  its  leaf-cover 
run  down  in  long  ornate  spra>'s,  that  are  poised  in  the 
hollows  of  the  woods  with  exquisite  iTace.     The  softest  ef- 


TREES  IN  THE  EARLY  SUMMER  LANDSCAPE        225 

fects  of  all  are  produced  by  the  small  pale  lca\'cs  of  the 
willow,  which  form  fluffy  cloudlike  masses  of  green  reposing 
by  the  stream-side.  There  are  other,  stricter-growing 
species  of  willow,  whose  shining  leaves  sparkle  brightly  in  the 
sunlight.  Wind  changes  the  color  of  certain  foliage  masses, 
such  as  those  of  the  white  oak  tribe,  by  overturning  the 
leaves  and  exposing  to  view  their  paler  under  surfaces.  It 
takes  a  hard  wind  to  overturn  the  leaves  of  the  speclded 
alder,  but  when  overturned,  they  entirely  change  the  aspect 
of  the  alder  thicket. 

Endless  are  the  tints  of  green,  also,  in  the  trees  of  the  land- 
scape, ranging  from  the  light  silvery  green  of  the  white 
willow  to  the  heavy  somber  green  of  the  white  pine.  Nature 
uses  other  colors  sparingly,  only  here  and  there  lighting  up 
the  edge  with  a  show  of  flowers,  as  with  masses  of  Judas- 
trees,  or  flowering  dogwood,  or  hawthorn. 

Nature  adorns  every  species  of  tree  with  its  own  graces  of 
form  and  color.  None  is  like  any  other.  Each  looks  best 
where  it  grows  best;  for  the  handsome  tree  is,  indeed,  the 
tree  that  is  well  gro^\^I. 

When  we  walk  beneath  the  trees  of  a  forest  cover,  the 
beauty  of  their  foliage  is  lost  on  us,  we  are  such  p}'gmies, 
walking  beneath  it :  we  must  climb  to  some  point  of  outlook 
to  see  it.  But  when  the  wood  is  cleft,  as  by  a  stream,  the 
leafage  comes  down  softly  to  the  ground  in  all  its  beauty. 
Viewing  a  steeply-rising  wooded  slope  from  the  vantage 
of  the  opposite  bank,  we  may  see  how  nature  uses  trees. 
She  plants  them  in  masses,  using  a  few  of  the  best  kinds  in 
vast  numbers,  and  scattering  the  others  thickly,  but  not  too 
thickly,  about  the  edges.  Always  there  is  enough  variety 
to  maintain  our  interest,  and  enough  repetition  of  like 
combinations  to  avoid  weariness.  Always  there  are  vines 
about  the  edges  for  drapery;  and  in  the  openings,  shrubs 
and  herbage  mask  all  the  angles  and  cluster  about  well- 


226  NATURAL   HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

grown  full-lcavcd  single  trees.     So,  nature  makes  of  every 
open  wotxlland  glade,  a  tkinning  s>'lvan  ])ictiire. 

Study   32.     Observations  on   the   Decorative   Features   of 
Tree  Growth  in  Early  Summer 

The  weather,  when  this  study  is  undertaken,  must  be  such 
as  ^^^ll  permit  one  to  sit  do\\Ti  out-of-doors  and  study  for  a 
time,  ^^^th  comfort,  the  details  of  the  landscape  outspread 
before  him.  If  the  student  has  no  familiarity  with  the 
decorati\-e  values  of  foliage  masses,  let  him  read  the  preced- 
ing pages  while  sitting  where  illustrations  of  the  foliage 
phenomena  cited  may  be  drawn  from  nature.  One  may 
often  see  many  foliage  types  by  looking  out  of  his  window 
over  well-planted  grounds,  if  native  woods  be  absent. 

Photographic  prints,  (preferably  blue-prints),  of  the  scenes 
selected  for  S]:)ecial  stud\',  or  maps  sho^^ang  outlines  of  tree 
masses,  may  be  prepared  in  advance  and  suppHed  by  the 
instructor. 

The  program  of  work  for  this  study  ma}^  consist  of : 

1.  An  examination  of  the  scaffolding  by  means  of  which 
some  broad-leaved  tree  holds  its  leaf  masses  up  to  the  light, 
and  a  comparison  of  method  in  solitary  and  clustered  trees. 
Also  a  comparison  of  imicr  and  outer  aspects  of  some  small 
clump  of  trees. 

2.  An  examination  of  leaf  sprays  as  to  leaf  an-angement 
and  its  relation  to  light  cx])osure,  and  to  the  fonnation  of 
the  larger  foliage  masses  that  adoni  the  landscape. 

3.  A  detailed  study  of  several  landscapes,  selected  for 
the  beauty  and  variety  of  tree  growth  within  the  view. 
Study  the  foliage  masses  formed  by  the  different  kinds  of 
trees,  comparing  them  as  to  color,  fonn  and  texture,  setting 
down  as  worthy  of  consideration  whatever  appeals  to  you 
as  being  good  to  look  upon,  and  indicating  the  features  of  it 


TREES  IN  THE  EARLY  SUMMER  LANDSCAPE        227 

that  are  to  you  pleasing.  Also  name  the  kinds  of  trees 
responsible  for  such  effects. 

4.  Comparison  of  well  and  ill-grown,  unhealthy  trees  of 
any  species  as  to  the  decorative  values  of  their  leafage. 

The  record  of  the  work  may  consist  of: 

1.  Comparative  diagrams  showing  framework  and  out- 
line of : 

(a)  A  single  specimen  tree,  growing  alone,  unpruned. 

(b)  A  clump  of  several  close-growing  trees  of  the  same 

kind,  also  unpnmed,  forming  a  unit  mass  of  leafage. 

2.  Comparative  diagrams  of  leaf  arrangement  on  a  small 
undergrowth  spray  of  such  trees  as  elm,  maple  and  larch. 

3.  Indications  (as  footnotes  to  a  photograph,  or  as 
explanations  to  a  map,  or  otherwise,  as  preferred)  of  the 
character  of  foliage  masses  in  the  scenes  studied,  covering: 

(a)  The  kind  of  trees  involved  in  each  type. 

(b)  Their  height. 

(c)  Relation  of  leafage  to  trtmks,  such,  for  example,  as 

the  contrast  in  the  white  birch. 

(d)  Color  of  crowns  (light  or  dark  green,  dull  or  shining, 

reactions  to  wind,  etc.). 

(e)  Texture  (open  or  close,  light  or  heavy  and  somber, 

etc.). 

(f)  Form  (mass  outlines  and  spray  relations,  etc.), 

(g)  Suited  to  a  place  in  the  foreground  or  in  the  back- 
groimd;  in  the  exposed  or  in  the  sheltered  places;  with 
reasons  therefor. 


Individual  Exercises  for  the  Spring  Term 

Five  sliuliis  follow,  \vhich,  like  those  for  the  I'all  Tcnn 
(pages  126  ct  seq.)y  are  intended  to  be  made  by  the  student 
working  alone.  The  first  three  may  be  entered  \\\)o\\  early 
in  the  term  (in  our  latitude);  the  other  two  are  for  the 
latter  half  of  the  term. 


Optional  Study  6.     A  Calendar  of  Bird  Return 

This  study  is  a\ailable  only  to  those  who  know  the  birds 
at  sight,  or  who  are  willing  to  take  the  necessary  trouble 
outside  of  this  course  to  really  make  their  acquaintance. 
Doubtful  identifications  will  render  the  record  quite  worth- 
less. Permission  to  offer  this  record  wall  therefore  have  to 
be  obtained  in  ad\'ance  of  midertaking  the  work. 

The  object  of  this  study  is  to  give  opportunity  for  extend- 
ing personal  acquaintance  with  our  local  migratory  birds 
on  the  part  of  students  who  already  know  them  by  sight. 
Field  observations,  made  at  least  once  a  week,  may  con- 
veniently be  entered  in  a  cross-ruled  table  having  the  left- 
hand  colimin  reser\'ed  for  bird  names,  and  each  of  the  other 
colunms  de\'oted  to  one  da}-'s  observ^ations,  the  date,  time  of 
day,  and  relevant  weather  conditions  being  written  at  the 
toj).  Following  each  bird's  name,  there  should  be  written 
in  the  jjrojxT  date  colunms,  the  obsen-ations  made  uj^on  it: 
number  and  sex  seen  at  first  appearance;  arri\'al  of  sexes, 
and  of  young  birds,  separately;  arrival  of  "waves"  of 
migrants;  etc. 


TREES  IN  THE  EARLY  SUMMER  LANDSCAPE       229 

Optional  Study  7.     A  Calendar  of  Spring  Growth 

This  study  is  for  one's  own  dooryard.  It  is  intended  to 
foster  acquaintance  with  the  plants  one  lives  with  all  the 
while.  These  are  apt  to  be  choice  things  that  have  been 
sought  out  and  planted,  and  other  things  that  have  come  in 
uninvited,  and  that  we  call  weeds.  Nature  makes  no  dif- 
ference in  her  treatment  of  them;  the  rain  falls  and  the 
Sim  shines  on  them  all  alike.  The  following  study  should 
be  made  with  like  impartiality.  It  should  continue  through 
the  entire  term,  observations  of  every  actively  growing 
species  being  made  at  least  once  a  week.  All  kinds  of  door- 
yard  or  roadside  plants  are  available,  whether  giant  trees  or 
pimy  herbs. 

For  record,  the  observations  may  be  entered  in  a  cross- 
ruled  table  having  the  left-hand  column  reserved  for  plant 
names,  and  each  of  the  other  columns  devoted  to  one  day's 
observations,  the  date  being  written  at  the  top.  Following 
the  name  of  each  plant,  there  should  be  written  imder  proper 
date  the  first  obvious  swelling  of  the  bud,  the  first  leaf  open 
(as  determined  by  the  exposure  of  its  upper  surface),  the 
first  flower  open,  the  first  fruit  ripe,  etc.,  and  any  other  Httle 
idiosyncrasies  of  the  plant  that  appear  from  time  to  time. 
Footnotes  may  be  made  to  include  observations  for  which 
there  is  not  room  in  the  table. 


Optional  Study  8.    A  Calendar  of  Spring  Flowers 

Observations  on  the  blossoming  of  the  early  spring  flowers 
is  less  work  than  pleasing  pastime.  It  is  worth  while  from 
every  point  of  view;  and  this  study  is  offered  in  the  hope 
that  more  of  it  will  be  done  voluntarily. 

If  one  would  keep  track  of  the  flowers  of  his  own  locaHty, 
he  should  first  know  where  the  near-by  places  are  in  which 
the  wild  flowers  abound,  and  then  he  should  so  lay  out  his 


Date  of 
blossoms 


230  NATUR-VL  HISTORY  OF  TIIH  FAR.\r 

walks  as  to  cover  the  greatest  variety  of  situations;   for  thus 
he  \\-ill  see  the  largest  variety  of  flowers. 

For  record,  the  field  obsen^ations  may  be  entered  in  a 
table  prepared  with  the  following  colimin  headings: 

Name  (ask  instructor  if  you  do  not  know  it,  presenting, 
always,  a  specimen  for  identification), 
first  a])i)earance. 
maxinuun. 
last  appearance. 
Relation  to  leaf -unfolding  (before,  with,  or  after  the  leaves). 
Duration  of  a  single  flower  (from  first  opening  to  ^^'ithering). 
Movements  of  { with  day  and  night. 

flower-i)arts  ( ^^'ith  progress  of  flowering. 

Changes  of  color. 
Date  of  first  fruit  ripening. 
Remarks. 

Optional  Study  9.     Noteworthy  Wild   Flower  Beds  of  the 

Farm 
Optional   Study    10.     Noteworthy  Wild   Shrubbery   of   the 

Farm 
These  two  studies  are  intended  to  encourage  personal 
obsen^ations  on  the  ornamental  things  growing  wild  on  the 
farm;  on  their  character,  their  requirements,  and  their  avail- 
ability for  making  the  farm  more  beautiful  and  more  inter- 
esting. The  data  called  for  may  easily  be  obtained  in  the 
course  of  walks  afield  for  air  and  exercise.  For  record,  blank 
tables,  like  those  on  pages  231  and  232  may  be  used.  The 
flowers  and  shrubs  therein  named  are  such  as  are  most 
available  at  Ithaca. 


231 


9.     NOTEWORTHY  WILD  FLOWER  BEDS  OF  THE  FARM 

Best  specimens  I  have 
seen  of 

Location 

Area  covered 

Character  of 
haunts 

Date  of 
flowering 

Character 
of  foliage 

I.     Hepatica 

2.     Rue  Anemone 

3.     Adder's  Tongue 

4.     Moss-pink 

5.     Trillium 

6.     Columbine 

7.     Bishop's  Cap 

8.     Cranesbill 

9.     May  Apple 

10.     Iris 

Others  of  your  own 
selection 
12. 

BEST  WILD  FLOWER-GARDENS  OF  MIXED  SORTS 

Location 

Components 

Seasonal  range  of 
flowers 

I.     On  level  woodland 

2.     On  dry  hillsides 

3.     In  wet  swale,  marsh 

or  bog 

23- 


lo.     N'OTKWORTUV 

FLOWKRINC;  SIIR 

UBBERY  OF  THE 

FARM 

Br 

Location 

Area  covered 

Conditionst 

Date  of 
flowering 

Character 
of  foliage 

I.     Azalea 

2.     Maple-leaved 
arrow  wood 

3.     Kl'.rr* 

4.     l-'lowering  Dogwood 

5.     ( )thcr  Dogwood* 

6.     Vihumum* 

7.     Sumach* 

8.     Witch    Hazel 

f).     Spicebush 

10.     Button  wood 

1 1 .     Willow* 

12.     Mountain  Ash 

i.V     Juneberr>' 

14.     Any  other 

I'                               :nbinations 

I .     Border  plantings 

2.     Cover  plantings 

3-     Mixed-specimen 
plantings 

*Any  SDecieS.  but  SniK-Ifv  nrhir^k  or 


4'  nt    rnnla*- 


PART    III 

Studies  for  Summer  Term 


XXXIII.     THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASON 

"Now  is  the  high  tide  of  the  year.     .     . 
We  sit  in  the  warm  shade  and  feel  right  well 
How  the  sap  creeps  up  and  the  blossoms  swell; 
We  may  shut  our  eyes,  hut  we  cannot  help  knowing 
That  skies  are  clear  and  grass  is  growing; 
The  breeze  comes  whispering  in  our  ear 
That  dandelions  are  blossoming  near, 
That  maize  has  sprouted,  that  streams  are  flowing." 

— Lowell  (A  Day  in  June) . 

Stunmer  is  here ! 

The  fields  that  were  brown  when  overturned  in  the  spring 
are  now  all  green  again.  The  desolation  wrought  by  the 
plow  was  but  to  prepare  them  for  a  better  growth.  The 
cattle  stand  knee-deep  in  the  grass.  The  butter  is  yellow. 
There  is  no  bare  ground  in  the  garden  of  the  thrifty  house- 
holder. Splendid  flowers  are  blooming;  nestlings  are  trying 
their  wings.  The  earliest  of  the  wild  fruits  are  ripening; 
and  liAn'ng  is  easier  for  every  creature. 

The  spring  rush  is  over  and  the  great  work  of  the  heated 
season  is  on — the  work  of  crop  production.  We  speak 
figuratively  of  raising  crops — that  is  nature's  work,  not  ours. 
All  we  can  do  is  to  arrange  some  of  the  conditions  favoring 
their  gro\Arth.  We  can  remove  their  competitors  and  destroy 
their  enemies  and  stir  the  soil  about  them,  but  natrue  makes 
them  grow. 

Most  plants  consume  their  food  reserves  in  getting  started 
in  spring;  then  they  settle  down  to  the  steady  work  of 
gathering  new  sustenance  from  the  soil  and  from  the  air. 
Under  natural  conditions,  they  must  act  quickly  when  the 

2i2> 


2^.\ 


NATUR.\L  HISTORY   ( >!•   Till-    FARM 


season  gets  warm  enough,  in  order  to  hold  a  i)lace  among 
ajrjrr^ssive  comix'titors.  To  be  outnin  in  the  race  for  hght 
is  fatal.  So,  they  put  forth  tender  shoots  with  all  the  leaves 
they  can  carr>',  leaves  being  their  working  capital.  So, 
in  early  sununer,  all  the  world  is  full  of  soft  green  tints. 
New  growth  is  evei^-where.  In  dark-hued  evergreens,  like 
henilock  and  spruce,  the  contrast  between  the  pale  new 
slioots  and  the  mature  old  ones  is  very  striking.  In  the 
heat  of  summer  the  new  gro\Ni:h  will  l\arden  and  new  reserves 
of  food  will  be  acciunulated. 

This  is  the  ordinary  routine  for  the  larger  perennial  plants 
tliat  are  best  suited  to  our  temperate  climate.  But  there 
are  some  little  plants  that  avoid  the  strife  of  summer  by 
making  haste  to  finish  all  their  work  in  the  spring.  Such 
is  the  narcissus,  now  vsnthering  on  our  lawns;  and  like  it 
nre  the  adder's-tongue  and  the  sciuiiTcl-coni,  and  many  other 
early  spring  flowers  that  dwell  under  the  hca\^  shade  of  the 
woods.  Doubtless  the  onion  grew  originally  where  it  was 
subject  to  late-season  shading,  and  there  acquired  the  habits 
which  it  still  retains  when  grown  in  the  open  fields. 

Our  field  crops  are  mostly  annuals,  brought  from  various 
climes.  Some,  like  oats,  are  natives  of  cold  countries,  and 
are  so^^'n  early  and  mature  early.  Some,  like  com,  are  semi- 
tropical,  and  are  sown  late  and  grow  well  only  in  hot  weather. 
Our  hottest  spells  are  proverbial  **com  weather".  Some, 
like  wheat,  spend  a  part  of  the  season  thickening  up  their 
**stand"  by  producing  offsets  from  the  bases  before  rising 
to  full  height  and  flowering.  We  plant  one  grain  of  com  for 
each  stalk  wanted  in  the  field,  but  not  so  with  wheat  or 
timothy:  seedlings  of  these,  early  in  the  season,  produce 
at  the  surface  of  the  ground  a  clump  of  buds,  which  later 
shfX)t  u])  tall  flowering  stalks  simultaneously.  The  wheat, 
after  fruiting,  dies,  but  the  timothy  goes  on  producing  other 
offsets  at  the  base,  holding  its  ground  after  the  manner  of 
perennials,  and  getting  ready  for  another  season. 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  THE  SEASON  235 

In  nature,  annual  plants  occupy  the  spaces  left  temporarily 
unoccupied  by  perennials.  They  fill  the  niches,  both  spatial 
and  seasonal.  So,  when  we  move  them  into  our  open  fields, 
they  enjoy  unaccustomed  abundance  of  room  and  light. 
We  change  conditions  and  increase  their  yield,  but  we  do 
not  greatly  change  the  nature  of  any  of  the  plants.  Out  in 
the  clover-field,  we  see  a  few  stalks  of  rye  that  have  spnmg 
up  where  a  seed  fell  and  germinated.  The  swaying  stems 
rise  to  thrice  the  height  of  the  clover.  Why  this  unnecessary 
length  of  stem,  and  imdue  exposure  to  the  rude  winds? 
We  need  only  look  at  the  wild  rye  growing  among  the  forest 
undergrowth,  to  see  in  what  conditions  this  growth-habit 
was  acquired.  There,  all  that  length  of  stem  in  needed  to 
reach  effective  light. 

We  plant  such  spindling  things  closely  for  mutual  sup- 
port, while  to  potatoes  we  allow  plenty  of  * 'elbow-room." 
W^e  till  one  crop  and  not  another,  according  to  their  need 
of  help  in  competition  with  weeds.  We  adjust  our  farming 
operations  to  the  seasonal  behavior  of  our  very  varied  crops : 
for  no  adjustment  the  other  way  about  is  possible.  Accord- 
ing to  the  temperature  and  time  requirements  of  our  crops, 
we  make  a  series  of  plantings  in  spring  and  a  succession  of 
harvests  in  the  summer.     So,  our  ways  conform  to  theirs. 

One  who  raises  plants,  gets  pleasure  out  of  his  craft  in 
proportion  as  he  follows  their  idiosyncrasies,  and  knows 
what  they  are  doing  in  root  and  branch  or  in  flower  and  fruit, 
at  every  turn  of  the  season. 


236 


NATURAL   HISTORY  OF  Till-    FARNf 


Study  33.  The  Progress  of  the  Season 
The  program  of  Uiis  study  includes  a  trip  over  the  fields 
aiid  K'^rdens  of  the  fann,  imp  in  hand,  noting',  inspecting 
and  rt'conhyg  the  more  striking'  seasonal  activities  of  the 
growing  things.  To  detennine  whether  vegetati\-e  increase 
of  field-crop  plants  is  goin^'  on,  specimens  will  have  to  be 
dug  up  and  examined  root  and  branch. 

The  record. 

1.  On  the  map  of  the  field,  the  principal  crops  may  be 
recorded  directly,  and  their  stage  of  advancement  briefly 
indicated. 

2.  An  amiotated  list  may  be  made  of  all  the  crops  ob- 
ser\-ed,  giving  location  (as  by  name  or  number  of  the  field), 
area,  stage  of  advancement  (as  germination,  height,  blossom- 
ing, etc.),  condition  (good,  poor,  weedy,  infested  wnth  plant- 
lice,  etc.).  Include,  besides  field-crops,  fruit  and  truck-crops 
and  pastures. 


XXXIV.     THE  CLOVERS 

"Noiu,  Cousin  Clover,  tell  me  in  mine  ear; 
Go' St  thou  to  market  with  thy  pink  and  green? 
Of  what  avail,  this  color  and  this  grace? 
Wert  thou  but  squat  of  stem  and  brindle-brown, 
Still  careless  herds  would  feed.'' 

Sidney  Lanier  {Clover), 

"Knee-deep  in  clover"  is  a  ptirely  agricultural  figure  of 
speech.  No  one  who  has  seen  the  pigs  or  the  heifers  turned 
out  into  a  clover-field  of  a  sumnier  morning,  will  need  to  be 
told  that  it  signifies  complete  and  unalloyed  satisfaction. 
Nor  does  it  mean  merely  pleasures  of  the  palate,  even  for 
the  beasts ;  for  they  gaze  on  the  clover,  sniff  at  it  and  take 
deep  breaths,  and  lie  down  and  roll  in  it.  Doubtless  there 
was  clover  in  Eden. 

There  are  many  kinds  of  clover,  and  they  are  of  varying 
utility  to  us.  Of  all  groups  of  cultivated  plants,  there  is 
hardly  another  that  is  intimately  bound  up  with  so  many 
agricultiiral  interests.  Clovers  furnish  green  forage,  both 
for  pasture  and  for  soiling.  They  furnish  hay — hay  that 
sets  a  standard  of  quality  for  all  other  hay;  hay  so  rich  in 
proteins,  it  needs  to  be  diluted  with  other  forage  for  ordinary 
feeding;    and  that,  alone,  is  ground  and  used  like  meal. 

The  clovers  also  supply  fertilizers  to  the  soil,  especially 
nitrogenous  fertilizers:  directly,  when  plowed  under  and 
decomposed;  and  indirectly,  through  the  action  of  the 
nitrogen-gathering  bacteria  that  live  in  the  nodules  on  their 
roots.  The  practice  of  rotation  of  crops  depends  for  its 
success  largely  on  the  work  of  the  clovers  in  replenishing 
the  supply  of  available  nitrogen  in  the  soil.  Both  by  the 
deep  penetration  of  their  roots,  opening  up  the  hard  subsoil 
to  the  ingress  of  air  and  water,  and  by  the  materials  they 
contribute  in  their  decay,  they  leave  the  soil  in  better  condi- 

22>7 


23^ 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


-'iJ-; 


Pig.    86.      White    clover.      (This 


and  other 
drawings  bearing  the  same  monogram  pre- 
pared by  Miss  Olive  N.  Tuttle  for  this  book. 


lion  for  subsequent  crops. 
Most  other  crops  deplete 
the  soil,  but  the  clovers 
enrich  it,  and  restore  its 
ftTtility. 

The  clovers  also  furnish 
the  finest  of  the  honey- 
crop — especially  white 
clover,  which  fills  the  land 
with  the  fragrance  of  its 
nectar  in  June.  Among 
them  are  excellent  soil- 
binders  for  holding  togeth- 
er the  surface  layers  of 
eroding  hill  slopes;  excel- 
lent cover-crops  for  the  orchard  in  the 

dr>^  season;  and  excellent  plants  for  the 

la\sTi  and  the  fence-row. 

And  besides  all  these  very  practical 

matters,  there  is  their  beauty !     Crimson 

clover,  red  clover,  white  clover— what 

neatness  and  elegance  of  design  in  the 

single  sprays;  what  beauty  of  leaf  form; 

what  freshness  of  flowers !    And  in  mass, 

also,  they  give  fine  landscape  effects — 

the  red  outspread  over  the  plain  like  a 

carpet  of  roses;    the   white   sprinkled 

over    the   green    hills    like    flakes    of 

fugitive  snow. 

All  the  clovers  are  deep-rooting  herbs 

that  grow  in  spreading  tufts  and  bear 

trifoliate  leaves,  having  stipules  at  the 

base  of  the  leaf -stalk.     They  have  small 

flowers  in  clusters,  and  short,  few-seeded      fk..  87.    Red  clover. 


THE  CLOVERS 


239 


pods.  The  true  clovers 
(members  of  the  genus  Tri- 
folium)  produce  their  flowers 
in  heads:  the  others  (sweet 
clovers  of  the  genus  Meli- 
lotus  and  the  medics  of  the 
genus  Medicago)  bear  them 
in  more  open  spike-like 
racemes.  Red  and  crimson 
clovers  are  the  most  striking 
species  of  the  fields,  but  in 
northern  latitudes  our  native 
white  clover  is  the  hardiest 
and  the  most  widespread  of 
all.  It  grows  in  fields  and 
pastures  and  copses  every- 
where, often  from  self-sown 
seed.     Its   creeping   stems, 


^'^f^ 


Fig.  89.     Alsike  clover. 


Fig.  88.     White  sweet-clover. 

Striking  root  wherever  they 
touch  the  ground,  fit  it  for  life 
in  pastures  and  in  lawns.  From 
its  sweet  flowers,  the  whitest 
of  all  honey  is  gathered  by  the 
bees.  Alsike  clover  is  a  similar 
but  more  robust,  imported 
species,  with  lax  stems,  not 
rooting  at  the  nodes,  and  with 
rose-tinted  flowers.  Buffalo- 
clover  is  another  rather  obscure 
native  species,  with  piebald, 
red  and  white  flowers.  Then 
there  are  two  other   kinds  of 


240 


NATURAL   HISTORY   OF  TTIlv  FARM 


imported  true  clovers  of  very  different 
appearance:  the  tall,  branchin*^^  rab- 
bit's foot  clover,  Nnth  its  whitish  corollas 
hidden  among  long  and  silky  calyx 
lobes,  which,  combined  together  in  the 
soft  heads,  suggest  the  name  it  bears; 
and  two  delicate  little  j-elknv-flowered 
hop-clovers. 

The  s\\'eet  clovers  are  two  species  of 
tall  fragrant  roadside  weeds,  similar  in 
appearance  except  that  one  bears  white, 
and  the  other  yellow  flowers.  The  white 
sweet  clover  (fig.  88)  is  able  to  follow  the 
road  grader  and  take  possession  of  and 
thrive  in  the 
liardest  and  most 
unpromising  of 
soils. 
The    medics 

differ     from    the    sweet    clovers   in 

having  bent  or  spirally  twisted  pods, 

instead  of  straight  ones.     They  also 

have  shorter  flower  clusters.     One  of 

them,  alfalfa,  is  of  vast  importance 

as  a  forage  crop.        It    has  purple 

flowers.     The  others  are  unimportant, 

yellow-flowered  species  that  we  find 

in  waste  places. 

Of  all  the  array  of  clovers,  only  the 

white  clover  and  a  few  of  its  nearest 

allies   in   the    genus    Trijolhim    are 

native  American  plants.      But  all  of 

them  are  interesting  and  worthy  of 

a  little  careful  study.  Fig. 91.    Viii.w-hop clover. 


Fig.  90.  Rabbin's -foot 
clover  (after  Britten  and 
Brown). 


THE  CLOVERS  241 

Study  34.  The  Clovers  of  the  Farm 
The  program  of  work  for  this  study  will  consist  of  finding 
the  clovers,  wild  and  cultivated,  growing  on  the  farm,  and 
digging  them  up  and  examining  them,  root  and  branch, 
flowers  and  fruit,  and  of  making  field  observations  on  their 
habits,  conditions  of  life,  enemies  and  associates. 

The  record  of  tliis  study  may  consist  of  two  tables  of  the 
clovers,  one  relating  to  the  green  plants,  and  the  other  to 
their  flowers  and  fruits,  prepared  with  column  headings  as 
indicated  below : 

I .    The  Green  Plants. 

Name  (red  clover,  sweet  clover,  alfalfa,  etcj. 

Duration  (annual,  biennial,  short-lived  or  long-lived 
perennial) . 

Height  (average  height  in  inches) . 

Growth-habit  (erect,  trailing,  creeping,  etc.). 

Stem  (stout  or  weak,  cylindric  or  furrowed,  straight  or 
zigzag,  etc). 

form  (diagram  of  the  compound  leaf  as  a  whole, 

including  the  basal  stipules) . 
color  (light  or  dark  green,  markings,  etc.). 
margin  (diagram  of  edge  of  leaflet). 
.p         rform  (diagram). 

\nodules  (relative  size,  form,  abimdance,  etc.). 
Grows  wild  where  (in  what  kind  of  soil  and  situation) . 
Is  grown  with   (what  other  cultivated  plants,  sown  or 
associated) . 

Is  fed  upon  by  (what  animals:   what  insects). 
Farm  uses    (green  forage    hay,    cover-crop,  honey-crop, 
green  manuring,  lawn-cover,  fence-row  cover,  etc.). 
Remarks. 


Leaves 


242 


NATURAL   HISTORY  OF   TIIIC   FARM 


Flower-clusters 


2.     The  Flower  and  Fruit 
Niune  (red  clover,  sweet  clover,  alfalfa,  etc.). 

fonn  (diaj^nnn  a  lon^Mtudiiial  section  of 

it). 

Xo.    of    flowers    (in    an    average    entire 

cluster). 
Xo.  of  clusters  (on  a  i)lant  of  average 
size) . 
corolla  (color,  fonn,  etc.). 

calyx  (lei;gth  in  relation  to  corolla,  hairiness,  etc.). 
fragrance 

visitors  (insects  seeking  nectar). 
Seed-pod  fonn  (diagram). 

Size  seeds  (length  by  width  in  fractions  of  a  millimeter: 
to  measure,  lay  ten  seeds,  touching,  on  a  metric  rule 
(see  p.  12);  read,  and  divide  by  ten.) 
Remarks. 


Flowers 


XXXV.     THE   AROMATIC   HERBS  OF   THE   FARM 

"Excellent  herbs  had  our  fathers  of  old, 

Excellent  herbs  to  ease  their  pain, 
Alexanders  and  Marigold, 

Eyebright,  Orris  arid  Elcampane, 
Basil,  Rocket,  Valerian,  Rue 

(Almost  singing  themselves  they  run). 
Vervain,  Dittany,  Call-me-to-you, 

Cowslip,  Melilot,  Rose-of-the-Sun. 
Anything  green  that  grew  out  of  the  mould 
Was  an  excellent  herb  to  our  fathers  of  old/' 

— Kipling  (Our  Fathers  of  Old). 

Our  great  demands  upon  the  plant  world  are  for  food, 
clothing,  and  shelter.  Given  these  essential  things,  we  then 
demand  other  things  for  pleasure  or  adornment.  To  neces- 
sary plain  food,  we  add  flavorings ;  to  textiles,  we  add  dyes ; 
to  walls  and  roof,  we  add  decorations;  and  then  we  enrich 
oiir  social  intercourse  with  garlands  and  wreaths  and  incense. 
We  use  these  things  because  nature  has  placed  them  near  at 
hand,  and  has  made  us  to  appreciate  them. 

Nature  has  singularly  commingled  the  bare  necessities  of 
our  existence  with  the  pleasant  gifts  of  her  bounty  and  with 
the  things  we  may  not  use.  They  grow  together  out  of  the 
same  soil,  foods  and  sweets  and  poisons.  Fortunately,  our 
instincts  guide  us  in  a  considerable  measure  in  the  choice  of 
foods,  for  what  nature  has  made  most  pleasing  to  our  palate 
is,  in  general,  most  wholesome.  There  are,  however,  many 
wholesome  plant  products  that  are  not  at  first  pleasant  to  the 
taste,  and  there  are  poisonous  fruits  that  are  attractive  in 
appearance.  Nature  has.  put  into  her  plant  products  an 
endless  variety  of  substances,  nutritive,  stimulating  or 
poisonous,  from  which  we  may  pick  and  choose.  Moreover, 
she  has  so  mingled  these  qualities  in  her  products  that  their 
effect  upon  us  depends  upon  our  use  of  them.     Foods  are 

243 


244  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Stimulating  if  rightly  used,  and  yet  may  act  as  ])oisoiis  if  u.^cd 
in  excess.  Many  poisons  arc  used  medicinally  to  stimulate 
the  latent  j)o\vcrs  of  the  body:  and  most  stimulants  are 
poisons  if  too  freely  used.  Between  foods  and  medicines 
and  poisons,  no  hard  and  fast  lines  can  be  drawTi.  Straw- 
berries and  ma}'-a]ii^lcs  and  other  raw  fruits  act  as  poisons 
in  the  case  of  individuals.  Many  foods  act  like  niedicines 
on  the  system.  Blackberries  are  mildly  astringent :  i:)runes 
are  laxative:  asparagus  is  diuretic:  lettuce  is  so]^orific — 
these  elTects  var^'ing  with  personal  idios>-ncras\'.  An  editor 
of  one  of  our  leading  agricultural  journals,  in  an  excess  of 
enthusiasm,  once  wrote:  "The  virtues  of  the  onion  [in  diet) 
render  it  a  whole  pharmacopeia  in  itself".  Truh',  "what  is 
one  man's  meat  may  be  another's  poison". 

It  was  one  of  the  earliest  tasks  of  manlcind  to  ex])lore  the 
plant  world  and  find  out  the  source  of  foods  and  medicines 
and  poisons.  Primitive  folk,  by  tasting  and  trying,  dis- 
covered nearly  all  these  plant  resources  that  we  know 
today.  The  cultivation  of  all  our  important  fo()d-])lants 
antedates  written  history.  There  is  hardly  an  American 
vegetable  drug  whose  use  was  not  known  to  the  Indians 
before  the  coming  of  Columbus. 

In  that  day  when  every  one  garnered  his  living  with  his 
own  hands,  plant  lore  was  knowledge  of  first  importance. 
Experience  was  handed  down  by  oral  tradition.  To  what 
men  knew  about  plants,  was  added  much  that  they  imagined. 
Before  the  days  of  botany,  the  best  of  this  lore  was  pul)lished 
in  herbals.  These  were  great  compilations  of  what  was 
known  or  believed  about  the  names,  habits,  and  uses  of 
plants.  They  included  practically  all  known  ])lants,  and  in 
the  list  of  their  "vertues"  nourishing  and  stimulating  and 
curative  properties  are  all  set  down  together,  side  by  side. 
The  herbalists  were  very  optimistic  about  plant  virtues. 
Most  plants  were  good  for  many  of  the  ills  of  hiunan  flesh. 


THE  AROMATIC  HERBS  OF  THE  FARM 


245 


Fig.  92.      Yellow  sorrel. 


Everything  was  good  for 
something,  tho  in  some 
cases  the  good  was  un- 
discovered. Thus,  Gerard 
says  concerning  "divers 
other  wild  campions" 
(Herbal,  2d  ed.  1633, 
page  474) :  "The  natures 
and  vcrtues  of  these,  as 
of  many  others,  lie  hid  as 
yet,  and  so  may  con- 
tinue,   if    chance,    or   a 

more  curious  generation  than  yet  is  in  being  do  not  finde 

them  out." 

There  is  more  than  nourishment  to  be  had  from  foods. 

The  pleasures  of  the  palate  are  inseparable  from  a  good 

digestion      and      good 

assimilation.   There  are 

wholesome    foods  that 

cloy,    and  others   that 

quicken.        There    are 

things,  not  in  themselves 

nourishing  at  all,  that, 

added  in  moderation  to 

our  diet,  help  to  keep 

our  nutritive  machinery 

working  efficiently,  and 

so    contribute    to    our 

welfare. 

Only  foods  proper  are 

of  sustaining  value,  but 

many  harmless  food  ad- 
juncts,   especially    the 

•1  ^  n  •  r      Fig.  93.     Round-leaved  mDllow;  the  fruit  (shown 

milder        naVOrmgS        or  at  the  side)  is  known  as  ••Cheese." 


246  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  TUK  FARM 

vegetable  products,  add  to  the  zest  of  our  eating  and  to  the 
value  of  our  dic>t.  ( )f  A-egetable  flavorings  there  is  no  end. 
There  are  acid  fla\'ors,  like  those  of  the  lea\'es  of  the  sorrels, 
long  since  suiii)lantcd  in  our  diet  by  artificially  prepared 
vinegars  (yet  what  eliild  of  the  field  does  not  still  nibble  at 
sorrel  leaves?).  There  are  jmngcnt  flavors  in  the  pej^pers 
and  in  many  crucifers — in  the  lea\'es  of  the  cresses,  in  the 
roots  of  radish  and  horse-radish,  and  in  the  seeds  of  pepper- 
grass  and  of  mustard.  It  is  flaA^or  and  not  food  that  cliildren 
get  froni  chewing  mallow  "cheeses"  (fig.  93),  or  slippery- 
elm  bark,  or  linden  buds.  There  are  pleasant  oleraceous 
flavors  in  kale  and  cabbage  and  cauliOower;  and  then  there 
are  the  flavors  of  the  savory  herbs,  tlie  subject  of  this  study. 

The  beasts  also  desire  these 
]:)leasant  adjuncts  to  their  diet. 
Cats  like  catnip  and  valerian. 
Dogs  like  certain  of  the  goose 
foots.  Cattle  lo\'e  to  crop  the 
twigs   of  apple  and  hawthorn 

Fig   94.     A  pair  of  leaves  of  catnip.        and     CVCn     the     shootS     of     the 

l)oison-ivy  and  other  plants 
that  are  to  us  harmful.  Wild  deer  are  fond  of  nettles. 
Horses  like  their  hay  best  when  it  is  fragrant  with  the  natural 
aromatic  oils  of  certain  of  the  grasses,  well  preser\'cd  by 
proper  curing.  It  is  noticeable  that  in  these  animals,  as  in 
ourselves,  taste  and  smell  are  intimately  associated.  The  cat 
not  only  bites  the  leaves  of  the  catnip  to  taste  them,  but  he 
sniffs  of  them  and  rolls  hrnaself  upon  them,  so  as  to  carry  the 
aroma  with  hirn.  Then  he  licks  his  fur  in  complete  satis- 
faction. 

Savory  herbs,  possessing  fine  aromatic  scents  and  flavors, 
have  been  sought  out  and  used  by  all  the  races  of  men.  They 
have  figured  in  the  ceremonials  of  all  religions,  ser\ing  for 
perfimie,  for  incense,  or  for  purification.    They  have  served  in 


THE  AROMATIC  HERBS  OF  THE  FARM  247 

public  gatherings  in  hall,  chancel  and  theater  to  make 
pleasing  unobtrusive  appeal  to  the  senses.  "English  litera- 
ture is  redolent  of  all  the  sweetest  leaves  and  flowers  of 
English  gardens ' '  (B arbidge) . 

Herbage-scents  are  not  transient  and  effusive,  like  the  odors 
of  the  flowers.  They  last  through  the  life  of  the  plant  itself, 
and  are  often  sweetest  in  the  dried  herb.  They  are  faint  and 
ethereal,  like  the  delicate  scent  of  sweetbrier  leaves  distilling 
into  the  motionless  air  of  a  summer  evening  after  rain.  Or 
they  may  not  be  noticeable  at  all  unless  the  foliage  producing 
them  be  rubbed  or  bruised. 

It  was  for  this  reason  that  our  grandmothers  planted 
lavender  and  rosemary  and  balm  close  beside  the  garden 
paths,  where  their  leaves  would  be  brushed  by  the  clothes  of  a 
person  passing,  liberating  the  fragrance.  They  prized 
these  for  the  garden  in  stimmer,  and  such  sweet  things  as 
lemon-verbena  and  rose-geraniums  for  the  window-garden  in 
winter.  It  is  because  herbs  yield  their  fragrance  most 
abundantly  when  crushed  or  bruised,  that  they  were  used  of 
old  as  "strewing  herbs."  They  were  scattered  in  the  path  of 
a  bridal  or  other  procession,  to  raise  a  pleasing  perfume  when 
crushed  by  passing  feet. 

Aromatic  herbs  are  mainly  such  as  secrete  essential  oils  in 
leaves  or  seeds  or  roots.  They  belong  mainly  to  two  fainilies 
of  plants:  the  mints  and  the  umbelworts.  Well-known, 
often  cultivated  members  of  the  mint  family  are  sage,  thyme, 
spearmint,  peppermint,  sweet  majoram,  sumimer  savory, 
balm,  basil,  catnip,  pennyroyal,  bergamot  and  horehound. 
The  garden  umbelworts  include  anise,  coriander,  caraway, 
parsley,  etc.  Single  representatives  of  other  plant  families 
are  ginger,  orris-root,  sweet-flag,  sweet-fern,  musk-mallow, 
dill  and  wintergreen. 

Such  names  as  those  just  mentioned  at  once  suggest  many 
uses  these  have  served.     The  flavoring  of  foods  may  well  have 


248 


Till-:  X  AT  URAL  TIISTORV  OF  Till-    FARM 


been  the  earliest  of  these.  Gerard  re])()rts  Pliuy  as  liaviiig 
said  that  "The  smell  of  mint  doth  stir  up  the  mhide  and  the 
taste  to  a  greedy  desire  of  meat";  and  f(>r  himself  he  adds, 
"Mint  is  marvellous  wholesome  for  the  stomaeke".  (Herbal, 
p.  68 1).  To  the  modem  cook  or  confectioner,  the  herbs 
themsches  are  hardly  kno\\Ti,  tho 
their  essences  are  used  to  excess. 
But  (xir  great  grandmothers  knew 
theni,  grew  them,  cut  them,  cured 
them  and  then  seasoned  \\-ith  them. 
The  plants  were  gathered  about  the 
time  when  their  first  flowers  were 
opening,  dried  ra]ndly  to  presence 
their  essential  oils,  and  ])ut  away 
for  winter  use.  Then  they  were 
used  with  discrimination.  It  was 
experience,  not  chemical  analysis, 
that  settled  u]:)on  sage  and  simimer 
savory  as  proper  seasoning  for  sau- 
sage and  roasts ;  upon  parsley  and 
th\iiie   as  suitable   for   stews   and 

SOU])S. 

Our  grandmothers  made  tea  from 
sage,  mint,  horehound,  balm,  catnip, 
pennyroyal,  etc.  It  was  a  com- 
mon practice  to  steep  a  quarter 
of  an  ounce  of  the  dried  lea\-es  in  a  half  pint  of  boiling 
water,  and  tlien  strain  and  sweeten  to  taste.  Such  teas 
were  at  once  beverages  and  "simple  home  remedies." 
Penm-royal  tea  was  used  to  promote  perspiration.  Hore- 
hound was  good  for  colds.  Each  herb  had  its  virtues,  and  all 
of  them  had  the  great  merit  of  being  rather  harmless  when  so 
prepared  and  admirastered.  If  one  had  a  cold,  a  pleasant 
cup  of  horehound  tea  (happily  supplemented  by  good  hygienic 


Fig.  95.     Pennyroy 


THE  AROMATIC  HERBS  OF  THE  FARM 


249 


measures)  gave  him  the  pleasant  feeling  that  he  had  "done 
something  for  it." 

Our  forefathers  were  making  use  of  the  antiseptic  proper- 
ties of  the  aromatic  oils,  when  they  burned  as  incense  the 
herbs  containing  them  to  make  the  air  of  public  halls  more 
wholesome.  Sprigs  of  lavender  were  laid  in  clothes-presses, 
both  to  repel  moths  and  to  impart  a  delicate  odor  to  the 

garments  that  were  stored 
therein.  Pulverized  leaves 
of  many  aromatic  herbs 
were  put  in  scent-bags,  and 
pillows,  and  extracts  from 
them  were  used  for  per- 
fuming baths  and  lotions, 
and  pomades  and  oint- 
ments. All  these  were 
ministrations  to  the  human 
sense  of  smell — the  most 
subtle  of  all  our  senses. 

A  garden  of  scented 
herbs  was  a  household 
necessity  in  that  day, 
before  the  advent  of  super- 
abundant bottled  scents, 
when  discriminating  use 
of  herbs  was  intimately 
bound  up  with  all  the 
little  refinements  of  life.  It  is  still  a  mark  of  household 
culture.  But  only  a  few  of  the  many  fine  herbs  available  are 
much  planted,  and  of  these,  few  are  indigenous.  Every 
fertile  country  has  its  own  fragrant  herbs,  and  it  were  well  if 
every  householder  who  plants  a  scented  garden  should  seek 
out  the  wild  fragrant  things  native  to  his  own  locality — 
things  that  the  gardener's  catalog  knows  not — and  use  them 


Fig.  96.     Watermint. 


250  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

also  in  situations  a])i)roi)riatc  to  them.  By  the  waterside  are 
marsh-mint  {Hlephila  ciliata)  and  watermint  {Mentha  cana- 
densis), as  sweet  as  any  mints  of  the  gardens.  On  the  hilltops 
are  fine  wild  bcrgamots  and  basils,  sweet-fern  (fig.  80),  fra- 
grant everlasting  (fig.  130),  odorous  goldenrod,  and  other 
sweet  things,  having  scents  in  pleasing  and  endless  variety. 
These  are  among  the  wild  things  tliat  every  one  should 
know. 

Study  35.     Aromatic  Herbs  of  the  Farm 

The  program  of  wc^rk  for  this  study  \\dll  consist  of  a  trip 
along  fence-row,  brookside,  waste  places,  and  woods,  devoted 
to  finding  the  wild  aromatic  herbs.  Test  all  kinds  of  foliage 
by  drawing  it  through  the  hands  and  smelling  of  it.  Test 
barks  and  woods  also.  Certain  odorous  roots  such  as  sweet 
Cicely  and  sarsa])arilla,  should  be  dug  up  and  crushed  and 
tested;  also  the  seeds  of  any  umbelworts  found  ripe.  A  few 
rank-smelling  aromatics,  like  richweed,  should  be  included, 
by  way  of  contrast.  A  look-in  upon  the  aromatics  of  an  herb 
garden  may  conclude  the  work. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  well  consist  of  a  table  of 
aromatic  herbs,  prepared  with  column  headings  as  follows: 

Name  (of  plant). 

Grows  where  (in  what  sort  of  place,  wet  or  dry,  sun  or 
shade,  etc.). 

Growiih-habit  (erect,  trailing,  creeping,  climbing,  twining, 
etc.). 

Part  aromatic  (leaves,  stem,  root,  seed,  etc.). 

Character  of  aroma. 

Suited  to  what  use. 

Remarks. 


THE  AROMATIC  HERBS  OF  THE  FARM 


251 


An  additional  study  on 
The  Fragrant  Trees  and  Shrubs  of  the  Farm 
may  be  made  if  desired,  following  the  same  plan,  and 
using  for  record  a  table  with  the  same  column  headings, 
adding  one  for  height.  More  attention  should  then  be  paid 
to  fragrant  woods,  like  those  of  sassafras,  spicebush  and  cedar, 
and  to  their  products  of  gums,  resins,  and  oils,  like  those  of 
cherry,  balsam  and  pine.  Food-flavors  will,  of  course,  be  less 
in  evidence;  flavors  for  manufactured  products,  more 
common;     things  for  medicinal  use,  about  as  with  herbs. 


XXXVI.     THE  TREES  IN  SUMMER 

"  Uiuler  the  greenwood  tree 
Who  loirs  to  lie  with  me, 
A  fid  tune  his  merry  note 
I'tito  the  secret  bird's  thro(}t, 
Come  hither,  come  hither,  come  hither." 

— Shakespeare  (.45  You  Like  It). 

In  summer  we  live  nearest  the  trees.  AVe  exchange  our 
solid  roofs  for  their  latticed  crowns,  and  sit  beneath  them  in 
the  open  air.  They  spread  green  canoj)ies  above  us,  all 
fringed  with  beautifully  sculptured  leaves.  Broad-leaved 
trees  with  the  densest  crowns,  like  hard  maples,  we  like  best 
for  shade :  these  best  exclude  the  sun. 

In  summer,  the  characters  of  boughs  and  buds,  which  have 
served  us  best  for  winter  studies  of  deciduous  trees  (see 
Study  9  on  page  76),  are  somewhat  obscured  by  the  foliage; 
but  the  leaves  in  themselves  offer  ample  recognition  marks 
instead.  The  species  of  tree  is  usually  to  be  told  from  a 
single  leaf;  for  each  kind,  though  variable  in  lesser  details, 
has  a  form  and  a  structure  and  a  texture  of  its  own.  The 
differences  are  sometimes  extraordinary  as  in  the  leaf  types 
shown  in  figure  97 :  but  even  when  the  leaves  of  two  species 
look  very  much  alike,  there  are  apt  to  be  minor  differ- 
ences of  outline,  of  venation,  of  margin,  of  hairiness,  of 
length  of  leaf-stalk,  etc.,  by  which  the  two  may  be  distin- 
guished. 

In  svunmer,  the  trees  are  busy.  Each  one  is  increasing, 
as  much  as  it  can,  its  hold  upon  the  earth  and  its  spread  into 
the  sunlight.  To  every  living  twig  it  is  adding  new  growth. 
Until  full  stature  is  attained,  it  adds  long  leafy  shoots  at 
each  sunlit  tip;  and  aftcnvards,  and  underneath  in  the 
shadow,  it  adds  enough  new  growth  to  hold  a  few  green  leaves 

252 


THE  TREES  IN  SUiMMER 


253 


every  year  so  long  as  the  tip  remains  alive.  Wherever  there 
is  an  opening  in  the  crown,  adjacent  twigs  tend  to  crowd 
into  it  and  fill  it  up. 

In  summer,  the  trees  are  flowering  and  fruiting.  A  few 
of  them,  like  the  tulip  tree  and  the  magnolias,  have  very  large 
flowers.  A  few,  like  the  maples  and  the  linden  or  basswood, 
have  smaller  nectar-bearing  flowers  that  are  thronged  by 
bees  and  other  insects.     Basswood,  indeed,  stands  next  to 


Fig.  97.     Leaf  outlines;   w,  sycamore;    n,  red  oak. 


white  clover  in  the  quality  of  the  honey  it  yields.  Most  of 
the  larger  trees  have  small  and  inconspicuous  flowers,  that 
shed  their  pollen  lavishly  and  depend  on  the  wind  for  its 
distribution.  Some  trees,  like  the  soft  maples,  flower  early, 
and  ripen  and  shed  their  fruit  before  the  summer  is  well  imder 
way;  and  others,  like  the  black  oaks,  hasten  slowly,  taking 
two  years  for  mattiring  a  crop  of  acorns.  So,  at  any  time, 
we  shall  find  some  trees  bare  of  flower  and  fruit,  and  others 
with  one  or  both  in  various  stages  of  development.  There 
is  nothing  more  interesting  about  the  trees  than  this  wonder- 
ful variety  of  habit.     How  interesting  they  are,  you  may 


254  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

never  know  by  merely  readin^^  about  them:    it  can  only 
be  learned  at  first  hand. 

Study  36.     Observations  on  the  trees  in  summer 

The  program  of  work  for  this  study  will  consist  of  an 
examination  of  the  crowns  of  a  dozen  or  more  of  the  com- 
moner deciduous  native  trees,  principally  as  to  their  habits 
of  growth  and  the  characters  of  their  leaves,  flowers  and 
fruit.  A  few  flowering  and  fruiting  boughs  of  each  tall- 
gro^^'ing  species  should  be  previously  pruned  and  brought 
down  to  earth  for  common  use. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of  one  or  the  other 
or  both  of  the  following  tables,  according  to  the  needs  of  the 
student.  Table  i,  on  recognition  characters  of  the  green 
tree,  is  intended  for  those  who  have  not  already  a  good 
acquaintance  with  these  characters,  such  as  is  prerequisite 
to  the  work  on  reproductive  habits  that  is  outlined  in  the 
second  table.  The  tables  (to  contain  only  original  observa- 
tions) may  be  prepared  with  column  headings  as  indicated 
below. 

1.     Table  of  Growth-Characters  of  Trees 

Name. 

Height   (estimated  height  of  a  mature   tree,   in  feet  or 

meters) . 
Growth-habit  (see  page  72  and  figure  40). 
type  (simple  or  conijjound). 
arrangement  (opposite,  alternate,  whorled,  etc.). 
fonn  (diagram  a  single  leaflet,  if  compound). 
Leaves       { size  (length  by  width  in  inches). 

surface  (rough  or  smooth,  dull  or  shin\',  hairy  or 

spiny,  etc.). 
mari^nn  (diagram  a  bit  of  it). 


Shoots 


THE  TREES  IN  SUMMER  ^55 

maximum  length  (length  of  one  season's  growth 

in  young  trees,  not  crowded), 
minimum  length  (length  of  one  season's  growth 

of  over-shadowed  twigs). 
number  of   jto  date  (on  average  new  shoots), 
leaves  |  last  season  (as  indicated  by  old  leaf- 

developed     i     scars). 

growth  season   (early,  medium,  or  late,   or  all- 
season). 


2.     Table  of  Characters  of   Flowers  and  Fruits 

Name. 
Date. 


Flowers 


Fruiting  height    (flower   and    fruit 
borne  at    what    distance  from 
the  ground,  measured  along  bole 
as  to  size  ^         and  branch). 

of  smgle  flower   (diameter  in  milli- 
meters), 
of   cluster    (length  and  breadth   in 
millimeters), 
as  to  sex  (perfect-i^*.^.,  stamens  and  pistils  in  the 
same  flower;  monoecious— ^'.^.,  stamens  and 
pistils  in  different  flowers  on  same  plant;  or 
dioecious— ij'.^.,  stamens  and  pistils  borne  on 
different  plants). 

of  clusters(diagram.;  t\\4ce,  if  of  two 

as  to  form  ^  ,     '^^^'^• 

of   flower  (diagram  in  longitudinal 


color. 


section,  showing  parts). 


256 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


arninireineut  (tliui^rain  in  position  on  stem;    in 

cluster,  if  it  grows  in  one). 
Fruit  ^  staj^e   (i)r()i)ortion  of  gro\\1:h  attained  to  date), 
structure  (dia<;nun  single  fruit  in  section,  or  in 

whatever  way  will  best  convey  an  idea  of  it). 

This  table  should  include  only  such  facts  as  may  be  ob- 
served on  the  date  when  the  study  is  made.  Blank  spaces 
in  it  will  then  be  si^mificant  as  indicating  different  seasonal 
habits  on  the  part  of  different  trees. 


XXXVII.     WEEDS  OF  THE   FIELD 

"/w  tke  garden  more  grows 
Than  the  gardener  soius." 

— Spanish  Proverb. 

Weeds  were  not  invented  by  the  Devil  to  plague  the  fanner. 
Oh,  no.  Weeds  were  here  before  there  were  farmers.  They 
were  here  holding  their  own  on  the  bits  of  fallow  ground  nature 
allowed  them — on  the  new-made  bar  left  by  a  receding  flood ; 
on  the  denuded  slope  laid  bare  by  a  landslide ;  in  the  ashes  of 
a  devastating  fire :  wherever  there  was  a  bit  of  soil  left  open, 
weeds  were  ready  to  enter  in  and  possess  it. 

Weeds  were  fewer  before  the  days  of  agriculture  than  now; 
for  nature  kept  most  of  the  land  occupied  with  more  per- 
manent crops.  It  is  due  to  the  farmer  himself  that  weeds 
have  become  so  abundant.  The  fanner  turns  the  soil  and 
makes  it  ready  for  new  occupants.  He  could  not  prepare  it 
more  to  the  liking  of  the  weeds  if  he  were  doing  it  expressly 
for  their  benefit.  They  like  the  tilth  of  soil  his  plow  and 
harrow  yield;  they  like  his  tillage  and  his  fertilizers;  they 
like  his  dust-mulch;  and,  if  they  do  not  chance  to  be  up- 
rooted, they  show  their  appreciation  by  lusty  growth.  AVhat 
magnificent  specimens  of  weeds  they  do  become  in  a  rich 
field.  The  wild  ones  of  the  same  species  that  we  find  in  the 
woods  are  puny  things  in  comparison. 

Weeds  have  a  wonderful  way — it  takes  a  figure  from  the 
language. of  business  to  express  it — a  wonderful  way  of 
"getting  in  on  the  ground  floor".  The  field  is  no  sooner  pre- 
pared than  they  are  found  occupying  it.  They  nearly  all 
spring  from  seeds,  and  their  seeds  have  great  facility  at 
getting  about.  Seeds  of  dandehon,  thistle,  hawkweed,  etc., 
travel  by  air  and  settle  in  every  field.  Seeds  of  cocklebur, 
burdock,  pitchforks   (fig.  39),  etc.,   travel  by  pack  animals, 

257 


r5S  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

and  t;()  wh(.Te\-c'r  the  anuuals  carry  them.  These  arc  less 
ubiquitous.  Other  seeds  of  weeds  are  distributed  with  the 
nuid  tliat  adheres  to  the  feet  of  men  and  animals,  and  to  the 
wheels  of  veliicles.  This  is  the  chief  mode  of  distributi(jri  for 
oiu*  coi'.unonest  weeds.  The  seeds  become  embedded  in  a 
thin  la\'er  of  mud,  and  when  dro])]K^d,  find  themselves  well 
situated  for  growing.  This  method  properly  plants  them. 
They  travel,  also,  with  the  fanner's  cargoes ;  with  his  ha\'  and 
straw  and  feed  and  with  his  im]:)erfeetly  winnowed  grain;  and 
they  are  distrilnited  along  with  these  commcxUties  to  remote 
regions.  So,  in  any  place,  we  find  the  new  and  unusual 
weeds,  like  cur  western  oxybaphus,  and  the  Russian  tliistle, 
first  appccLving  along  the  railroad  track,  where  dropped  from 
passing  cars. 

Weeds  are  such  opportunists ;  the>'  make  the  most  of  small 
favors.  If  they  can  not  get  more,  they  will  take  less.  One 
well-fed  cocklebtu-  plant  in  a  rich  cornfield  may  attain  an 
almost  treelike  stature,  and  another,  whose  lot  is  cast  on  a 
barren  sand-bar,  may  not  attain  a  finger-height.  Bvit  the 
latter  does  not  give  up  because  soil  is  barren  and  water  scarce. 
It  may  develop  only  a  few  lea\'es  and  bear  only  one  bur,  but  it 
ripens  good  seed  in  that  bur,  and  is  ready  for  the  next  season's 
opportunity.  Dandelions,  in  rich  meadows,  grow  often  knee- 
hi^h  to  a  man;  but  on  the  lawn,  after  repeated  clipping, 
they  will  bloom  so  close  to  the  ground  that  the  mower  ]3asses 
harmlessly  over  their  heads.  Morning-glories,  finding  no 
trellis  at  hand,  mil  cheerfully  accc])t  a  conistalk  in  its  stead,  or 
in  the  absence  of  all  support,  will  s])read  over  the  bare  ground. 

Nature  sows  many  kinds  of  seeds  in  e\ery  field.  Some  of 
her  sowings  are  welcome,  like  that  of  blue-grass  in  the  fields 
that  we  are  turning  into  pasture.  Most  of  them  come  to 
nought  because  the  seedlings  cannot  withstand  tillage.  They 
fall  before  the  first  onslaught  of  the  cailti  valor.  Fortunately  for 
the  faniK-r,  this  is  the  fate  of  nearly  all  plants  that  spring  from 


WEEDS  OF  THE  FIELD 


259 


seeds  that  travel  by  air.  There  are  others,  however,  that 
have  staying  quaHties,  and  they  are  the  troublesome 
weeds. 

Obviously,  there  is  no  hard  and  fast  line  to  be  drawn 
between  weeds  and  other  plants.  Buckwheat,  when  sown 
as  a  field  crop  one  season,  may  spring  up  as  a  weed  in  the 
midst  of  the  com  crop  next  season.  Some  very  bad  weeds, 
like  mustard  and  wormseed,  are  raised  as  crops  for  their  seed. 
Some,  like  dandelion,  are  eaten  as 
salads.  Many,  indeed,  of  the  weeds 
of  the  field  are  eaten  by  live  stock, 
and,  like  pig-weed  and  purslane,  at 
once  disappear  when  fields  are  turned 
into  pastures.  Some  weeds,  like 
mallow,  mullein,  and  yarrow,  have 
beautiful  foliage,  and  others,  like 
morning-glory,  daisy  and  thistle, 
have  splendid  flowers. 

Weeds,  like  other  plants,  have  their 
preferences  as  to  situations.  Pitch- 
forks and  the  larger  docks  like  abund- 
ant moisture,  and  cluster  in  low 
ground.  Abutilon  and  jimson-weed 
do  well  only  in  rich  soil,  while  rag- 
weed and  foxtail  flourish  on  poor  soil. 
Pigweed  and  lamb's-quarters  and 
crab-grass  love  the  garden  and  the  edge  of  the  manure  heap. 
In  dooryards  and  along  paths  where  much  trampling  keeps 
down  the  tall  w^eeds,  low-growing  things,  like  dandelion  and 
plantain,  or  prostrate  tough-stemmed  things,  like  mallow 
(fig.  93)  and  doorweed,  thrive.  Obviously,  prostrate 
plants,  that  cast  so  thin  a  shadow  as  do  door^veed  and  spurge 
(fig.  100),  are  not  a  match  for  taller  weeds  and  can  flourish 
only  on  bare  ground. 


Fig.  98.     Beautiful  weed: 
yarrow;    h,  sheep  sorrel 


260 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Successful  weeds  must  be  al:)lc  to  thrive  on  the  treatment 
accorded  to  the  crop  \\'ith  which  they  grow.  In  our  study  of 
pasture  plants  (Study  6,  p.  56),  we  found  that  the  weeds  of 

pasture,  like  the  forage 
plants  there,  are  chiefly 
j^erennials  that  are  able 
to  withstand  browsing 
and  tram]3ling.  So,  in 
the  fields,  they  must  be 
al)le  to  mature  a  crop 
witliin  the  lifetime  of  the 
cultivated  species  with 
which  they  are  associated. 
Since  good  plowing  puts 
an  end  to  both  alike,  a 
new  start  must  be  made 
from  seed.  Between  \)\ow- 
ing  and  plowing,  there- 
fore, a  new  crop  of  seed 
must  be  matured.  Hence, 
the  im])ortant  weeds  of 
the  coniiield  are  annuals. 
Perennials  are  of  little 
consequence  in  tilled  fields. 
The  weeds  that  in  season 
and  habits  and  require- 
ments are  most  like  the 
crops  \\'ith  which  they 
grow,  arc  the  ones  that 
They  are  natural  com- 


FlG.  99.     Sun  prints  of   camomile    and  carrot. 


give  the  fanner  the  most  trouble, 
petitors. 

The  farmer  gives  them  as  bad  a  handicap  as  possible  at 
planting  time.  He  buries  their  seed  deeply  by  plowing 
the  soil,  and  at  once  he  i)lants  seed  of  his  own  crop  at  the 


WEEDS  OP  THE  FIELD 


261 


depth  most  favorable  for  quick  and  early  gro\\i:h.  Certain 
plants,  like  buckwheat,  that  grow  up  quickly,  smothering  the 
weeds,  are  often  used  to  clean  a  weedy  field.  Potatoes,  on 
the  contrary,  being  slow  to  appear  above  ground,  are  certain 
to  be  beaten  in  the  occupation  of  the  soil  by  many  weeds. 
So  they  are  often  tilled  just  before  they  appear  above  the 
ground.  The  weed  seedlings  are  easily  killed  when  little. 
Tillage  breaks  their  mooring  in  the  soil.     The  weeds  are  thus 


#^  ^ 


Fig.  100.  Sun  prints  of  weeds,  showing  the  extent  to  which  they  shade 
the  ground,  /.paint-brush;  2,  moth-mullein;  3,  evening  primrose; 
4,  creeping  spurge;    j,  door-weed  or  goose-grass. 

given  a  second  setback,  while  the  stout  potato  shoots  come 
along  uninjured.  The  farmer  ought  to  be  something  of  a 
naturalist,  for  his  success  in  handling  plants  must  needs  be 
based  on  observations  of  their  habits,  their  powers,  and  their 
requirements. 

The  farmer  might  save  himself  much  labor  of  exterminating 
weeds  in  his  fields,  if  he  was  more  careful  not  to  encourage 
their  growth  outside  the  fields.  He  provides  too  many 
reserves  for  them  in  roadside  and  barnyard  and  fence-row. 
Enormous  crops  of  weed  seeds  are  matured  in  such  places. 
It  is  not  enough  to  keep  the  fields  clean.  The  fence-row 
may   be    a  source    of  reinfestation.      A    clean   field   may 


262 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


be  infested  with  seeds  in 
manure  from  a  weedy 
bani\'ard;  or  ^^'ith  seeds 
earried  in  by  the  stock 
turned  on  to  feed;  or  with 
seeds  gathered  from  a 
weedy  roadside  and  carried 
in  on  wagon  wheels. 

The   farmer,   al)()\'e   all 

])ersons,  should  know  that 

V  »  ^  iil^'        nature    will     be     raising 

^^^L  i    \LStOS^       something  on  e\-ery  bit  of 

''         ^^        ^  .>llfJ*Bfc:       ground ;    and   that  if   he 

destroy  her  more  pennan- 
cnt  cro]js,  that  something 
will  be  weeds.  Weeds  fol- 
low the  ax  and  the  sc\'the 
and  the  plow  as  stunmer 
follows  spring.  The  scythe, 
especially,  is  used  with  too  little  judgment.  The  altogether 
harmless  and  altogether  beautiful  goldenrods  and  asters 
fringing  many  a  roadside  are  mown  to  extennination  to 
make  a  place  for  ragAvecds  and  mulleins  to  grow.  The 
native  shrubbery  under  the 
trees  is  cut  away  to  make  a 
place  for  burdocks.  Such 
sort  of  self-inflicted  vandalism 
destroys  the  beauty  of  the 
farm  and  increases  its  drud- 
gery. If  the  farmer  is  so 
ignorant    that    every   green 

thing,     that     is    not    a    CrOJ)-      Fio.  102.     Better  than  weeds  in  the  fence- 
,  .  row — the  maple-leaved  viburnum. 

plant,  IS  to  hun  a  weed  and 

to  be  treated   according!}-,   then   in  increased   labor    and 

in  the  sweat  of  his  brow  he  must  ]jay  the  cost  of  his  stupidity. 


Pig.  101.  Le-ives  of  rag-weed  at  all  ages; 
a  seed-leaves;  b,  c,  d,  e,  successively  older 
leaves;  m.n.o,p,g.r,s,  leaves  successively 
formed  on  a  fruiting  spray;  2,  a  fruiting  tip. 


WEEDS  OF  THE  FARM  263 

Study  37.  Weeds  of  the  Field 
The  program  of  work  for  this  study  will  consist  of  a  trip 
about  the  fields  containing  both  tilled  and  untilled  crops, 
examining  all  the  common  weeds  occurring  in  each,  and  com- 
paring them  and  writing  their  characters  in  a  table  prepared 
with  the  following  headings: 

1 .  Name  (ask  the  instructor  if  you  do  not  know  it) . 

2.  Height  (or  length  of  stem,  if  horizontal,  in  inches). 

3.  Growth-habit  (erect,  spreading,  trailing,  creeping, 
climbing,  twining,  etc.). 

4.  Root  (form,  depth  and  strength  of  attachment  to  soil). 

5.  Leaf  (diagram,  and  state  size,  length  and  width  in  mm. ; 
of  a  leaflet,  if  compound). 

6.  Flower  or  flower-cluster  (diagram). 
Size. 

Fonii  (diagram) . 
Mode  of  dispersal. 

8.     Preferred  situation. 

Name  (of  crop  in  which  weed  is  found) . 

Stage  (time  elapsed  since  seeding) . 

Spacing  (average  interval  between  plants  each 
way  as  expressed  in  inches) . 
The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of : 

1.  The  above  table  complete  for  at  least  a  dozen  weeds. 

2.  Lists  of  all  weeds  found  in  com  field,  wheat  field,  etc., 
arranged  in  what  appears  to  be  the  order  of  their  abundance 
and  harmfulness  there.  Note  that  not  numerical  abun- 
dance, but  bulk  and  aggressiveness  are  here  intended. 

3.  Comparative  diagrams  for  half  a  dozen  weeds,  illus- 
trating peculiarities  of  growth-habit,  or  mode  of  increase,  or 
mode  of  seed  distribution,  that  make  them  factors  in  the 
competition  of  the  fields. 

4.  A  map  of  the  farm,  with  the  centers  of  possible  dispersal 
of  seeds  of  noxious  weeds  marked  in  red  upon  it. 


7.     Seeds. 


Crop. 


XXXVIII.     SIWLMKR  WILD  FLOWERS 


"He  is  happiest  'who  hath  power 
To  ^either  'wisdom  from  a  flower, 
And  'u'dke  his  heart  in  every  hour 
To  pleasant  gratitude." 

— Wordsworth. 

The  splendor  of  summer  would  not  be  complete  without  its 
splendid  flowers.  They  jnmctuate  the  slopes.  They  adorn 
the  roadsides.  The}-  mellow  the  air  with  fragrance.  They 
fill  the  fields  with  the  huinming  of  bees,  and  with  the  flashing 
win<^'S  of  brilliant  butterflies. 

The  summer  flowers  are  not  like  those  of  sprin<^^     They 
grow  more  openly,  and  fling  out  their  colors  like  banners 
by  the  roadsides.      Spring  fl(^wers 
flash     up    on    fragile    evanescent 
\c  I  ^  :^^K  '^'-         stems,  solitary  or  in  little  clusters 

f/-=2'--^-^^    a  "*"  '    oi  unstudied  grace ;  but  the  summer 

flowers  take  their  time,  developing 
first  strong  stems  and  abimdant 
leafage,  and  then  producing  great 
compovmd  clusters  in  fine  mechani- 
cal adjustment.  Saint  John's  worts 
and  campions  and  sunflowers  and 
daisies — how  lustily  they  crowd  to 
fill  the  wa>'side  with  their  banked- 
up  foliage  masses,  and  then  how  gloriously  they  bloom! 

Summer  flowers  are,  moslh',  rather  small,  and  produce 
their  brilliant  effects  by  the  massing  of  great  numbers  together. 
A  few  large  ones,  like  wild  roses,  are  solitary.  Others  of 
moderate  size  like  gerardias  and  otlier  figvvorts  are  hung 
out  in  o])en  panicles;  those  of  the  cc^mmon  mullein  are  in 
long  stiff"  erect  spikes.  Many  of  the  mint  flowers  are  in 
shorter  and  denser  s])ikes,  but  most  of  the  lesser  flowers  are 


Fic;.  KKi.  Turtk-heads  (Che- 
lone  glabra:)  e,  the  flower  from 
the  side;  h,  the  same  with  a 
bumble-bee  entering. 


2(.4 


SUMMER  WILD  FLOWERS 


26= 


Fig.    104.       Meadow-sweet    with    its 
feast  outspread. 


arranged  in  flat-topped  clusters, 
either  heads  or  umbels. 

The  clustering  of  the  flowers 
is  directly  related  to  visitation 
by  insects,  the  distributors  of 
their  pollen.  Close  grouping 
greatly  economizes  labor  on  the 
part  of  their  visitors.  A  bee 
must  pass  from  one  pea  flower 
to  others  by  separate  flights,  but  a  score  of  flowers  massed 
together  into  a  clover  head  may  be  visited  without  interven- 
ing flight,  and  with  only  a  slight 
turning  of  the  body  about  while 
standing  on  the  top  of  the  cluster. 
While  insects  are  most  abundant  in 
the  summer  season,  flowers  most 
abound  then,  also;  and  there  is  pig.  105 
competition  for  the  services  of  the 
bees. 

Their  patronage  is  desired.  So  the  flowers  in  their  natural 
evolution  have  perfected  ways  of  drawing  visitors,  that 
singularly  parallel  the  methods  of  the  comer  grocery  in 
^  .  drawing  trade.  First,  they  get  in  a  stock  of 
desirable  goods — nectar  and  pollen.  Then  they 
advertise  that  they  have  got  it  and  are  ready 
for  business.  They  advertise  with  bright  colors 
and  attractive  odors.  Their  signs  are  showy 
corollas  that  often  bear  special  "guide  marks" 
about  the  entrance.  Then  they  array  their 
wares  to  suit  their  visitors'  convenience.  They 
set  their  open  corollas  all  out  in  line  on  a  nar- 
row spike  as  at  a  common  counter;  or,  they 
spread  them  out  flatwise  in  a  head  or  corj^nb 

This  last 


Side  view  of  the  ab- 
domen of  a  bee,  showing  pollen 
brushes. 


Pol- 


FiG.  106. 

len  -gathering 

honly'S.'^^  or  umbel,  as  on  a  common  table. 


266 


NATLKAL  HISTORY  ( »F  TllH  FARM 


arrangement  is  doubtless  n\ost  convenient  for  the  visitors; 
it  is  the  one  niDst  coniinonly  adopted,  and  most  successful. 
And  as  there  are  groceries  that  cater  to  a  select  and  limited 
patronage,  so  there  are  flowers  that  put  their  nectar  out  of 
reach  of  common  visitors,  and  reserve  it  for  those  that 
are  epecially  endowed— not  with  long  pocketbooks,  but 
with  Icng  proboscides.  They  secrete  their  nectar  at  the 
bottom  of  deep  and  narrow  corolla  tubes  or  spurs,  or  behind 
barriers  of  sharp  oiTensive  spines,  or  glandular  hairs.     The 

nectar    of    certain 
trumpet-like     con- 
\(  )l\-ulus  flowers  can 
be  sucked  only  by 
long-tongued  hum- 
ming-bird    moths. 
That  in  the  tightly- 
closed     bilabiate 
corollas  on  themon- 
kc}--flowers  can  be 
had  only  by  bum- 
blebees,    having 
strength     to     o])en 
the   mouth   of    the 
corolla    and   enter. 
So,  when  we  watch  the  flower-clumps  in  the  fields,  we  shall 
see  but  few  visitors  about  such  specialized  flowers  as  turtle- 
heads  (fig.  103),  and  butter-and-eggs,  while  the  outspread 
tables  of  open  corollas  of  such  as  meadowsweet  (fig.   104) 
and  wild  carrot  are  thronged  with  \'isitors  of  many  sorts. 
The  colors  of  summer   flowers  are  in    themselves  very 
beautiful  and  satisfying.     Their  fonns  are  wonderfully  varied 
and  interesting.     But  colors  and  forms  are  alike  increasingly 
instructive  when  we  learn  what  roll  they  fill  in  the  drama  of 
hfe.     And  we  shall  enjoy  our  coutnct  with   natuie  better 


Pig.  107.  Beard-tongue  {Pentstemon  pubescens)  a,  the 
flower;  b.  section  of  the  same,  showing  the  trigger- 
like bearded  upper  stamen,  which  is  declined  so  that 
it  overlies  the  stalks  of  the  pollen-bearing  stamens. 
The  insect,  entering  where  indicated  by  the  arrow, 
in  clutching  this  stamen  shakes  pollen  from  the  others 
down  upon  its  own  back.  (From  the  author's 
"General  Biology.") 


SUMMER  WILD  PLOWERS  267 

when  we  have  grasped  the  fact  that  in  the  world  of  flowers 
or  elsewhere,  "there  is  no  beauty  apart  from  use." 

Study  38.  Summer  Wild  Flowers 
The  program  of  work  for  this  study  should  include  a  trip 
to  the  field  for  collecting  wild  flowers  and  stud}4ng  their 
characters  and  habits.  All  the  showier  sorts  of  wild  flowers 
of  one  small  locality  should  be  observ^ed,  gathered  and 
compared.  They  will  be  found  in  imcultivated  places  by 
the  roadside  and  streamside  and  in  the  woods.  They  v;ill 
show  great  differences  in  color  and  form  and  attractions  to 
insect  visitors.  Many  of  their  characters  will  appear  curious 
and  inexplicable  if  studied  only  indoors  and  apart  from  their 
environment;  but  in  the  field,  when  the  day  is  bright  and 
calm  and  insects  are  abundant,  one  may  see  exactly  what 
the  most  puzzling  of  floral  structures  are  good  for,  by  seeing 
their  mechanism  in  action. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of  an  annotated  list 
of  the  flowers  studied,  illustrated  with  a  few  simple  diagrams 
of  flowers  or  clusters,  etc.,  where  possible. 

The  notes  should  cover:  kind  of  plant,  manner  and  place 
of  growth,  sort  of  flower-clusters,  of  flower,  its  color,  odor,  and 
general  attractiveness  to  visitors  and  means  of  attracting 
them. 


XXXIX.     SDMI"     IXSECTvS    AT    Wr)RK     OX    FAKM 

CROPS 

"Thai  ivhirh  the  palmencorm  hath  left  hath  the  locust  eaten;  and  that 
which  the  locust  hath  left  hath  the  cankenvorm  eaten;  and  that  which  the 
cankeru'orm  hath  left  hath  the  caterpillar  eaten. 

Awake,  ye  drunkard,  and  weep;  and  howl,  all  ye  drinkers  of  wine, 
because  of  the  vew  wine;  for  it  is  cut  off  from  your  mouth. 

For  a  nation  is  come  up  upon  my  land,  strong,  and  without  number, 
whose  teeth  are  the  teeth  of  a  lion,  and  he  hath  the  cheek-teeth  of  a  ^reat  lion. 

lie  hath  laid  my  vine  waste,  and  barked  in y  fig-tree;  he  hath  made  it 
clean  bare,  and  cast  it  away;   the  branches  tJiereof  are  made  white.'' 

—The  Book  of  Joel,  i  :4-7. 

Before  there  were  famis,  the  plants  we  cuki\'ate  all  had 
their  insect  enemies.  They  developed  together  in  the  wild- 
wood.  The  priniiti\'e  farmer  sotight  out  the  valuable  crop- 
plants  and  brought  them  into  his  fields.  The  insects  came 
along  with  them,  uninvited. 

The  making  of  fields  disturbed  the  nice  balance  of  nature. 
The  massing  together  of  plants  that  grew  sparingly  in  the 
wildwood,  made  it  possible  for  their  insect  enemies  to  find 
unusual  food  sup])lics,  and  to  develop  in  extraordinary 
numbers.  Potato  beetles,  hatched  in  the  garden,  find  food 
plants  waiting  for  them  in  ainmdancc;  they  do  not  ha\'e  to 
search  the  motmtain-sidc  for  a  few  straggling  wild  i)lants  on 
which  to  lay  their  eggs.  Thus  the  fanner  has  made  easier 
conditions  for  them,  and  is  himself  responsible  for  their 
unusual  increase.  It  is  because  he  has  aided  their  increase 
that  he  now  must  take  measures  for  their  destruction. 

Each  kind  of  plant  has  its  o\^^l  insect  enemies.  Different 
ones  work  in  its  leaf,  its  stem,  its  root  or  its  fruit.  No  part  is 
exempt  from  attack.  Some  insects  feed  openly  ujion  tlie 
plant;  others  are  concealed,  as  stem-borers  and  leaf -miners. 
Some,  like  the  aphids,  feed  in  great  companies;  others  are 
solitary.     A  few  scale  insects  attach  themselves  to  the  bark 


SOME  INSECTS  AT  WORK  ON  FARM  CROPS 


269 


Pig.      108.       A    leaf-devouring    caterpillar 
(Acro7iycta)  on  button-bush. 


and  remain  in  one  position. 
Most  insects  appear  during 
only  a  portion  of  the  season, 
and  often  several  different 
insects  follow  one  another 
in  a  regular  succession  of 
depredations. 

Of  insects  that  feed  openly 
upon  the  crops  of  our  fields, 
there  are  two  classes  that 
affect  the  plant  tissues  diff- 
erently, and  that  we  have 
to  deal  with  differently. 
These  are  biting  insects  and 
sucking  insects.  The  former 
are  armed  with  jaws,  and  consume  the  tissues  of  the  plant: 
the  latter  are  armed  with  sharp  puncturing  beaks,  and  they 
merely  perforate  the  tissues  and  suck  up  the  fluid  contents. 
Biting  insects  are  beetles  and  grasshoppers  and  cutworms 
and  many  large  caterpillars  that  consume  parts  of  plants 
bodily,  and  many  lesser  leaf-skele- 
tonizers  of  various  groups  that  eat 
the  soft  superficial  tissues,  leaving 
the  more  solid  framework  of  the 
leaves  intact.  All  these  are  con- 
trolled by  spraying  or  dusting  suit- 
able poisons  (arsenate  of  lead,  Paris 
green,  etc.)  upon  the  surface  of  the 
plant,  to  be  eaten  along  with  the 
plant  tissues.  The  pimcturing 
insects  are  bugs  of  various  sorts  and 
aphids  and  scale  insects.  These 
penetrate  the  epidermis  with  their  fio.  109.  A  sucking  insect:  the 
beaks  and  suck  out  the  plant  juices      }liTJ^s):"^  ^"^  iOncopeUus 


270 


NATURAL  HISTORY  oi-   Till:  FAR.\r 


from  -^itliin.     Those  thus  escape  ])oisons  (le])osiled  upon  the 
surface  of  the  plant,  and  are  killed  by  spraying  only  when 

some  contact  in- 
secticide (like  kero- 
sene emulsion,  or 
various  ])rc]xira- 
tions  of  nicotine, 
etc.)  is  thro^vnupon 
their  bodies. 

Both  types  of 
feeders  we  often  find 
side  by  side.  We  go 

Fk;.  no.     A   colony  of   aphids  on  a  leaf  of  Ceanolhiis'   •  -,^.„  „  ,.„uu^„p  f,plJ 
h    a    svrphus-flv   larva,   feeding-    i,  a  wmged   aphid;  intOacaDDagC-neiQ, 

J^----\%-^^^^^  where  Httle   white 

butterflies  flutter 
above  the  rows,  and  we  find  their  green  lar\^ae,  "cabbage- 
worms,"  stretched  at  length  upon  the  surfaces  of  the  leaves 
placidly  eating  out  scallops  in  the  margins 
bage  leaves  we  find  whole  colonics  of  ^ 
minute  gray-green  aphids,  "cabbage- 
lice",  sucking  the  sap  out  of  the 
leaves  and  making  them  buckle  and 
curl. 

Most  herbivorous  insects  are  very 
limited  in  the  range  of  their  diet. 
They  will  feed  upon  the  plants  of  but 
a  few  species — usually  closely  related  s])ecies.  The  coniinon 
potato-beetle  eats  other  things  besides  ]X)tato,  but  only  a 
few  other  species  of  the  same  genus — other  solanums.  This 
is,  for  the  husbandman,  a  very  fortu- 
nate limitation. 

The  worst  of  our  field  and  garden 
pests    are    species    of   insects    fr<:)m 
''^IcJJ.^gflT'UrMaltt)!  Other  lands.    They  have  been  brought 


On  loose  cab- 


^•m 


Fig.  111.  The  nine-spottad 
ladybird  beetle  and  its 
larva. 


SOME  INSECTS  AT  WORK  ON  FARM  CROPS 


271 


Fig.  113.  An  aphid 
skin  with  a  hole 
in  its  back , 
whence     has 


to  our  shores  along  with  imports  of  plant  materials  of  various 

sorts.  They  have  become  established  in  our  fields;  but 
fortunately  they  attack  only  a  few  of  our 
plants  that  are  closely  related  to  their  own 
native  food-plants.  Pests  like  the  brown-tail 
moth,  having"  an  unusually  wide  range  of  diet 
(including  in  this  example  the  leaves  of  most 
of  our  deciduous  trees),  are  luiusually  difficult 
to  control. 

Under  natural  conditions,  there  is  an  occa- 
emerged  a  para-    g^^j^^j  exccssive  iucrcase  of  foragiug  insects. 
Hordes     of    them     suddenly    appear,     and 

destroy  the  foliage  of  one  or  two  species  of  plants.     For 

tliis  evil,  nature  has  her   own   methods  of  control.     She 

uses  carnivores  and  parasites  to  keep  each  species  in  check. 

In  the  midst  of  the 

aphid  colony  on  a 

cabbage  leaf,  or  on 

the  curled  tip  of 

an   aphid-infested 

apple   spray,   one 

may  often  see  both 

predatory    and 

parasitic     foes   of 

the  aphids  work- 
ing side  b}'  side  to 

keep     down     the 

colony.    Ladybird 

beetles  and  their 

larvae    (fig.    m) 

consume    the 

apnidS    bodily.  p^^^  J14     ^  parasitized  moth  larva  on  a  blue-grass  top: 

T  flrr>'wi'no-   -fl^'     la-r  some  of  its  parasites  have  spun  their  cocoons  beside  it. 

j^ciK.'^w  iii^    ii\      iclT-  others,  on  the  grass-blade  above,     b,  shows  an  easy 

VflP    (-firr     TT-)^    d-n/l  method  of  hatching  out  the  adult  parasites  from  the 

vdc    Viis-    J- J--;   etna  cocoons.     (From  the  author's  "General  Biology"). 


272  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

syr]:)hus-fly  larvae  iiu])alc  tlicin  and  suck  their  Ijlood.  This 
destruction  is  WToug:ht  openly.  But  greater  destruction  is 
often  wrought  by  minute  parasites  that  feed  unobser\^ed 
on  the  inteniiil  tissues  of  the  aj^liids.  Their  work  is  evident 
mainly  in  the  dead  and  empty  aphid  skins,  each  wath  a 
round  hole  in  its  back  from  wliich  a  little  winged  parasite 
has  emerged  when  fully  growTi. 

Study  39.     Insects  at  Work  on  Farm  Crops 

Tliis  study  may  be  made  at  any  tijne  exce])ting  when  the 
vegetation  is  wet.  The  equipment  needed  will  be  lenses, 
insect  nets,  and  cyanide  bottles  or  vials  of  alcohol  to  hold  the 
specimens  of  insects  foimd,  pending  their  identification. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of  a  trip  into  the  field 
for  collecting  and  observing  the  insects  that  are  at  work 
upon  the  crops.  Many  pests  may  be  located  by  the  dis- 
colorations  and  defonnations  of  plant  tissues  they  produce: 
curling  of  the  tops,  ragged  outline  of  leaves,  yellowing,  etc. 
A  few,  like  the  potato-beetle  larvae,  are  so  conspicuous  in 
color  and  position  as  not  to  be  easily  missed.  Some,  notably 
aphids,  chinch-bugs,  etc.,  are  in  dense  colonies;  but  most  are 
solitary  and  protectively  colored,  and  difBcult  to  see.  The 
grass  and  herbage  is  full  of  plant-bugs  and  cateriDillars,  that 
one  would  not  notice  ordinarily,  but  that  are  readily  found 
by  "sweeping"  the  leaves  with  a  net.  Then  having  found 
out  what  to  look  for  and  where  to  look,  specimens  may  be 
observed  at  work  upon  the  plant.  Species  working  where 
less  easily  discovered,  as  in  the  stems  or  fruits,  or  under- 
ground on  the  roots,  may  be  pointed  out  by  the  instructor. 
The  treating  of  biting  insects  with  food-poisons,  and  of  the  suck- 
ing insects  with  contact-insecticides,  may  be  demonstrated 

The  work  may  cover  either  the  commoner  insects  of  a 
number  of  crops,  or  a  more  careful  collation  and  comparison 
of  all  the  pests  present  on  some  one  crop. 


vSOME  INSECTS  AT  WORK  OX  FARM  CROPS  2^2, 

The  record,  in  either  case,  may  be  an  annotated  and 
illustrated  list  of  the  insects  found  feeding. 

The  notes  should  cover  name  and  kind  and  size  and  stage 
of  msect;  its  habits,  the  nature  and  extent  of  the  injury  it 
causes,  etc.  Simple  diagrams  may  be  made  to  illustrate  its 
location  on  the  plant  and  the  character  of  its  injury. 


XL.     IXSI'X^TS  MOLESTING  FARM  ANIMALS 


*'Thoii'rt  iLt'lconte  to  the  town;   but  why  come  here 
To  bleed  n  brother  poet,  gaunt  like  thee^ 
Alas!  the  little  blood  I  have  is  dear. 

And  thin  will  be  the  banquet  drawn  front  nir.'* 

— Br>ant  {To  a  .\fosquito). 

In  the  season  of  black-flics,  no  one  goes  into  the  North 
Woods  excc]:)t  on  business ;  though  it  is  late  spring  and  the 
flowers  are  blooming  everywhere  and  all  the  world  is  fresh 
and  in\'iting,  the  flics  are  in  the  woods  by  day,  and  the 
mosquitos  and  punkics  are  there  by  night,  and  there  is  no 
peace  of  life  for  man  or  beast.  The  lumber-jacks,  who  must 
labor  there  to  earn  a  living,  smear  themselves  ^s-ith  tar-oil 
and  other  fly-rcpcllants.  The  wild  deer  lca\'e  the  streams 
and  adjacent  woods  and  go  far  out  among  the  rushes  in 
the  open  marsh,  and  stand  half  immersed  in  the  water. 
The  hogs  in  their  pens  root  up  the  bottom  of  the  pools  and 
trample  and  roll  it  into  a  soft  paste,  and  coat  theniselves 

thickly  with  mud.  This 
is  fly-i)roof.  The  l)ison, 
als(\  in  days  gone  by, 
wallowed  in  the  mud 
about  spring-holes, 
attaining  by  like  inad- 
mirable  procedure  the 
same  desirable  end — 
immunity. 

Fly-time,   fortunately, 

is  fleeting.     Early  spring 

and    late    summer    and 

autumn  are  more  or  less 

fta.nf.    ^,r.<,^uIto.  fi'^-'^  from  blood-sucking 


274 


INSECTS  MOLESTING  FARM  ANIMALS 


275 


flies.  The  black-flies  are  the  daylight  pests  of  early  summer, 
and  ere  they  are  gone,  the  horse-flies  and  deer-flies  are  at 
hand  to  remain  through  midsummer;  also  the  bot-flies; 
which,  though  they  do  not  bother  us,  are  aggravating  to  live 
stock  beyond  all  proportion  to  their  number  and  size. 

All  these  transient  pests  are  two-winged  flies  (members 
of  the  order  Diptera),  belonging  to  a  very  few  families.  In 
all  of  them,  the  larvae  live  in  situations  ver}^  different  from 

those  of  the  adults.  The  larvae 
of  the  blood-sucking  flies — black- 
flies  and  mosquitos  and  horse-flies 
— ^are  mostly  aquatic.  The  young 
of  the  bot-flies  are  parasitic  in  the 
bodies  of  animals.  In  all  of  them, 
it  is  the  females  that  pester  the 
live  stock,  the  blood-sucking  flies 
by  biting,  and  the  bot-flies  by  the 
operations  attendant  upon  laying 
their  eggs. 

The  mosquitos  represent  the 
best-known  of  these  families 
(Culicidae).  These  do  most  to 
make  the  night  interesting.  They 
have  a  soft  little  hum  that 
probably  would  be  counted  among 
the  sweet  sounds  of  nature,  were 
it  not  accompanied  by  so  strong 
an  appetite  for  blood .  They  come 
earliest  in  the  spring  and  stay  latest 
in  the  fall.  They  breed  in  stand- 
ing water — especially  in  shallow 
and  temporary  pools.  Rain- 
Fio.116.  Larva  of  the  mosquito  watct  barrcls,  and  even  tin 
hr&cT.tSi^).^'''^^''    cans  cast    upon   a   rubbish-heap 


276 


NATURAL  HISTORY  oF  THH   FARM 


-^'N 


11: 


The     buffalo-gnat     {Sitnulium 


fecuarum,  after  Garmanj. 


and  filled  ^vith  water  In' 
the  rains,  often  furnish 
the  chief  su])])lies  of  nws- 
(juitos  to  a  whole  nei^^hbor- 
hood.  Few  are  reared  in 
o])en  water  inhabited  by 
fishes;  U)r  the  fishes  cat 
them.  The  smaller  the  pool, 
the  more  likely  it  is  to 
contain  mosquito  lar\'ae. 
The  larA'ae  take  air  at  the 
surface  of  the  water,  but 
swim  down  below  to  find 
forage  or  to  escape  danger. 
Many  species  are  adapted 
to  the  dr\ing  up  of  their 
native  pools,  and  live  on  (usually  in  the  egg  stage)  in 
absence  of  water,  and  come  on  again  and  fly  and  sing  and 
bite  at  their  proper  seasons.  Some  are  short -li\-ed,  and  run 
through  quite  a  number  of  generations  in  a  single  summer; 
these  de\elop  in  vast  numbers  when  a  rainy  season  main- 
tains an  abtmdance  of  little  pools. 

Black-flies  (Family  Simuliidae)  develop  in  nnming  water, 
and  are  most  troublesome  about  woodland  streams.  The 
habits  of  the  larvae,  w^iich  live 
upon  stones,  ha\e  been  discussed 
on  ])ages  36  and  37.  When  there 
arc  no  stones  in  the  streams,  lar\'ae 
may  be  foimd  hanging  to  sticks 
and  to  grass  blades  that  trail  in 
the  edge  of  the  current.  The  eggs 
are  laid  on  logs  and  stones  at  the 
water's  edge.  The  adults  (fig.  1 1 7 ) 
love  the  sunshine,  and  their  biting  * 

.11  1      u      J  Fi<;-    11^-       A   horse-fly    Cfrom  the 

IS  troublesome  only  by  day.  u.  S.  Bureau  of  Entomology; . 


INSECTS  MOLESTING  FARM  ANIMALS  277 

Horse-flies  (Family  Tabanidae)  develop  in  moist  soil  or 
mud,  usually  in  the  beds  of  reedy  brooks  and  ponds.  One 
finds  the  lar^^ae  (fig.  77)  among  the  roots  of  aquatic  weeds 
and  grasses  by  lifting  these  from  the  water.  The  annual 
crop  of  flies  matures  in  midsummer.  The  males  sip  nectar 
and  plant  juices,  and  are  short-lived;  the  females  bite 
fiercely  and  suck  the  blood  of  all  the  larger  hoofed  mammals. 
They  are  troublesome  only  by  day.  When  fully  mature 
they  lay  their  eggs  on  the  vertical  stems  and  leaves  of  aquatic 
plants,  just  above  the  surface  of  the  water.  Many  handsome 
flies  (see  fig.  118)  are  found  in  this  group. 

The  bot-flies  (Family  Oestridae)  are  parasitic 

as  larvae.     Three  are  notable  and  dangerous: 

one  in   the   alimentary  tract    of    the    horse, 

causing   various    derangements;     one  in   the 

frontal  sinus  of  the  sheep,  causing  vertigo  to 

^  fly^of  th?hOTse'  the  animal  and  often  killing  it ;  one  under  the 

n^by^M^SS'  ^kin  on  the  backs  of  cattle,  causing  great  lumps 

cTw  ?S'cT^  that  may  be  readily  felt  by  running  one's  hands 

ftudT^Ir  In-  ^"^'^^  ^^  animal's  back.     These  larvae  (known 

*^^^^^*  as  "ox-warbles")  are  the  easiest  of  the  bots  to 

observe.     Over  each  of  them  is  a  hole  in  the  skin,  out  of  which 

the  larva  will  emerge  when  grown.     When  approaching  the 

time  of  emergence  (best  in  the  spring)  it  may  be  brought  to 

light  prematurely.     By  placing  one's  thtmibs  at  either  side 

of  the  lump  and  pressing  hard,  the  warble  may  be  made  to 

pop  out  through  the  hole  into  the  daylight. 

The  horse  bot-fly  is  most  easily  observed  of  the  adult 
insects.  It  often  foUoAvs  teams  along  the  highways  or  about 
the  fields,  and  its  presence  may  be  suspected  from  the 
frenzied  action  of  the  horses,  flinging  their  heads  u])ward. 
The  bot-fly  docs  not  bite ;  it  merely  seeks  to  attach  its  eggs 
to  the  hairs  about  the  front  legs  and  shoulders  of  the  horse, 
within  reach  of  his  mouth.     But  the  horse  instinctively 


278  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  TTIK  FARM 

shuns  it,  strikes  at  it,  and  seeks  to  drive  it  away.  One  may 
often  see  the  eggs  attaehed  singly  to  the  hairs — little  oblong 
whitish  s])ecks,  glued  fast,  to  remain  during  ineubation.  If 
licked  off  and  swallowed  in  ten  to  fifteen  days  after  they  are 
laid,  they  may  develop  into  parasitic  larvae  in  the  horse's 
stomach.  They  then  remain  attached  to  the  walls  of  the 
stomach  or  intestine  during  their  larval  life.  The  s^^'iftly- 
flying,  loudly-buzzing,  terror-inspiring  bot-fly  darts  about 
the  horse's  forelegs  like  a  golden  bee. 

These  are  the  worst  of  the  fly  pests :  but  there  are  many 
others;  horse-flies  and  stable-flies  and  house-flies  and  minute 
punkics,  some  of  which  bite,  and  some  of  which  lap  up 
exudations  from  the  skin,  and  some  of  which  merely  perch 
and  tickle,  causing  but  slight  annoyance  to  the  beasts. 

Cattle  and  horses  are  specially  equipped  for  dealing  with 
such  pests.  They  ha\'e  an  abmidant  development  of  small 
subcutaneous  muscles  for  shaking  them  off  from  the  skin, 
and  thus  temporarily  disposing  of  them  with  a  minimum 
expenditure  of  energ}^;  and  their  tails  are  equi])])cd  with 
heavy  brushes  of  long  coarse  hair,  indestructible  fly-brushes, 
which  they  s'^ing  with  considerable  force  and  precision. 
One  often  learns  this  wliile  engaged  in  milking  the  family 
cow.  One  of  the  most  inane  "improvements"  that  ever 
became  fasliionable  is  the  docking  of  the  tails  of  horses.  It 
is  a  mild  fonn  of  cruelty  to  animals;  for  it  deprives  them  of 
their  natural  means  of  defense  against  the  flies.  In  any 
pasture  on  a  summer  day,  one  may  see  the  horses  standing 
in  the  shade  in  pairs,  side  by  side,  head  to  tail,  each  one's 
tail  switching  the  front  of  the  other,  each  one's  front  being 
s\ritchcd  by  the  tail  of  the  other;  it  is  a  mutual -bene  fit 
association,  the  eflicicncy  of  which  lies  in  the  possession  of 
natural  full-length  fly-brushes. 

Small  as  these  pests  are,  they  are  capcil)le  of  causing  very 
great  annoyance.     Cows  give  less  milk  in  fly-time,  and  horses 


INSECTS  MOLESTING  FARM  ANIMALS  279 

grow  thin,  so  much  of  their  energy  is  spent  in  fighting  flies. 
The  loss  of  blood,  also,  is  very  considerable. 

There  is  no  finer  illustration  of  the  nature  of  animal 
instincts  than  is  furnished  by  the  behavior  of  horses  and  cattle 
toward  these  pests.  By  stamping  of  hoofs  and  twitching 
of  skin  and  switching  of  tail,  they  drive  off  what  they  can 
of  the  bloodsucking  flies,  and  the  remainder  they  patiently 
endure;  but  they  flee  before  a  few  bot-flies,  leaving  good 
pastures  to  biuy  themselves  in  the  brush  of  the  thickets. 
Yet  the  bot-flies  do  not  bite ;  they  only  seek  to  gently  deposit 
a  few  eggs  on  the  tips  of  the  hairs.  The  larvae  are  danger- 
ous enemies,  and  nature  has  taught  the  beasts  to  shun 
the  flies  that  lay  the  eggs.  The  sharp  bites  of  the  blood- 
sucking species  are  merely  annoying,  but  the  mere  buzzing 
of  the  bot-flies,  that  are  themselves  quite  incapable  of  causing 
pain,  is  terrifying. 

Study  40.    Insects  Molesting  Farm  Animals 

A  dry,  calm  day  in  hot  weather  should  be  chosen  for  this 
study,  and  if  animals  can  be  found  resting  in  sheltered  places 
near  woods  and  water,  pestiferous  insects  will  be  numerous 
about  them.  If  the  animals  are  gentle  enough,  the  insects 
may  be  captured  by  hand.  Teams  in  the  harness  may  be 
examined  for  horse-flies  and  bot-flies,  etc.  Insect-nets  may 
hardly  be  used  without  frightening  the  animals.  Captured 
insects  may  be  kept  in  cyanide  bottles  or  in  vials  of  alcohol 
pending  identification. 

The  program  of  work  for  this  study  may  consist  of  observa- 
tions on  the  behavior  of  horse-flics,  horn-flies,  bot-flies, 
warble-flies,  black-flies  and  other  day-flying  pests  of  animals, 
made  in  whatever  time,  place  and  mamier  local  circumstances 
will  permit.  Mosquitos  may  be  observed  at  night  without 
effort.  They  attack  animals  as  they  do  ourselves,  being 
satisfied  with  any  situation  where  they  can  suck  blood.     The 


2So  NATUFLXL  HISTORY  OF  TUE  FARM 

life  history  of  mosquitos  may  be  demonstrated  by  leaving  a 
vessel  of  rain-water  exposed  on  a  shaded  window-sill,  outside, 
where  the  adult  mosquitos  may  fly  to  it,  for  a  fort!ii<;ht 
before  it  is  needed.  Egg^  "^^'iH  ^^  ^'-^^^^  on  the  surface  and  all 
stages  of  development  will  quickly  follow.  Living  larwe  of 
black-flies  ("turkey-gnats,"  "sand-flies,"  etc.),  horse-flies  and 
punkies  and  alcoliolic  specimens  of  bot-fly  and  hom-fly  larvae 
may  be  shown  in  demonstration. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of  a  fully  amiotatcd 
list  of  the  ]3cstiferous  insects  obser\Td.  The  notes  should 
cover  such  points  as  the  following : 

Tinie  and  place  of  observation  and  relevant  weather 
conditions. 

Kind  of  animal  molested,  and  sort  of  molestation  (buzz- 
ing, tickling,  biting,  egg-laying,  etc.). 

Means  emplo\'ed  by  the  animals  for  evading  or  in  combat- 
ing the  pests  (standing  in  water,  in  wind,  in  brush,  switch- 
ing or  biting  them,  coating  their  hair  with  mud,  etc.). 

Breeding,  places  of  pests. 


XLI.     OUT  IN  THE  RAIN 

'^Rainf  Rain! 
Oh,  sweet  Spring  rain! 
The  world  has  been  calling  for  thee  in  vain 
Till  now,  and  at  last  thou  art  with  us  again. 
Oh,  how  shall  we  welcome  the  gentle  showers, 
The  baby-drink  of  the  first-born  flowers, 
That  falls  out  of  heiven  as  falleth  the  dew. 
And  touches  the  world  to  beauty  anew? 
Oh,  rain!  rain!  dost  thou  feel  and  see 
How  the  hungering  world  has  been  waiting  for  thee? 

How  streamlets  whisper  and  leaves  are  shakeji, 

And  winter-sleeping  things  awaken, 

And  look  around,  and  rub  their  eyes, 

And  laugh  into  life  at  the  glad  surprise; 

How  the  tongues  are  loosened  that  late  were  dumb, 

For  'the  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  has  come' ; 

Hoiu  every  tender  flower  holds  up, 

In  trembling  balance,  its  tiny  cup. 

To  catch  the  food  that  in  sultry  weather 

Must  hold  its  little  life  together? 

Oh,  blessings  on  thee,  thou  szveet  Spring  rain, 

That  callest  dead  things  to  life  again!  " 

— James  Brown  Selkirk  (.Rai7i). 

From  the  point  of  view  of  thirsty  things,  the  best  weather 
is  the  day  of  rain.  The  earth  grows  browTi  and  sere,  waiting 
for  it.  Growth  ceases.  The  cattle  languish.  The  farmer 
scans  the  sky  anxiously,  looking  for"  clouds  that  promise 
refreshment;  for  water  is  life's  prime  necessity. 

The  rain  comes  with  phenomena  of  great  impressiveness. 
Were  such  things  to  be  seen  at  only  one  place  in  the  world, 
men  would  travel  the  world  over  to  see  them.  Bold  thunder- 
clouds rise,  with  crests  as  white  as  snow,  resting  on  banks 
as  black  as  ink.  The  lightning  flashes  and  the  thtmder 
rolls.  The  landscape  darkens  and  the  rain  descends.  Zig- 
zag flashes  cleave  the  blackness  only  to  intensify  it.  There 
is  a  scent  of  ozone  from  overhead,  and  the  scent  of  the  ground 
comes  up  from  below.     It  rains.     And  then  the  clouds  lift  a 

281 


282  NATURAL  lIISnjRV  (JF  Till-:  FARM 

little,  and  a  flood  of  H^lit  flows  in  on  the  freshened  atmosphere. 
The  rain  ceases  and  the  \-erdiire  of  the  earth  a])pears,  slaked 
and  washed  clean. 

We  do  not,  naturall}-,  seek  to  kee])  out  of  the  rain.  As 
children,  we  soui^ht  to  be  out  in  it.  The  wann  summer  rain 
was  as  refreshing  as  sunshine.  It  is  due  to  our  clothes 
that  we  avoid  getting  wet.  Our  modeni  attire  is  set 
up  with  starch  and  glue,  and  the  rain  wilts  it.  For  the  siike 
of  such  artificial  toggery,  we  sacrifice  some  pleasures  that  are 
part  of  our  natural  birthright. 

Other  creatures  enjoy  the  rain.  At  its  approach,  many 
of  them  enter  u])on  unusual  activities.  Insects  swarm. 
The  rabbits  by  the  roadside  become  more  familiar.  They 
approach  nearer  to  our  doors,  and  sit  longer  amid  the  clover 
when  we  come  near  them.  Snakes  run  more  in  the  open; 
indeed,  a  snake  in  the  open  roadway  is  a  venerable  "sign" 
of  rain.  Chickens  oil  their  feathers,  alternately  pressing  the 
oil-gland  and  preening  w4th  their  beaks;  and  if  they  get  well 
waterproofed  before  the  storni  breaks,  and  if  the  dowTi]30ur 
be  not  too  heavy,  they  will  then  stay  out  in  it,  and  enjoy  it. 
Many  birds  sing  more  persistently — ^notably  the  cuckoo, 
which  doubtless,  from  this  habit  got  the  name  "rain-crow." 
Frogs  croak  vociferously,  as  if  in  ])leasant  anticipation. 
Flowers  bend  their  heads. 

When  it  rains,  the  moisture-loving  tilings  come  forth. 
Slime-molds  creep  out  over  the  logs.  Mushrooms  spring 
up.  Slugs  and  millepedes  and  pill-bugs  wander  forth  into 
the  open,  and  earthworms,  as  well,  at  night.  And  e\-ery- 
where  rumiing  water  is  ]:>erfomiing  its  great  functions  of 
burden-bearing,  cutting,  filling,  leveling,  and  slowly  cliiuiging 
the  toi)ography  of  the  land,  and  distributing  all  mamier  of 
seeds  over  its  surface.  There  is  plenty  to  see  and  plenty  to 
hear  when  it  rains. 


OUT  IN  THE  RAIN  283 

Study  41.     Out  in  the  Rain 

This  is  a  study  for  the  day  when  raincoats  and  rubbers 
and  umbrellas  have  to  be  taken  afield,  and  when  the  coming 
on  of  a  heavy  shower  puts  an  end  to  other  work.  Then, 
instead  of  fleeing  indoors,  it  will  be  well  to  stay  out  and  see 
some  of  the  interesting  things  that  go  on  in  the  rain. 

The  program  of  work  for  the  day  of  rain  will  vary  with 
time  and  circumstances.  Therefore,  we  shall  riave  to  be 
content  with  a  very  few  general  suggestions. 

First,  before  the  stonn  breaks,  during  the  lull  when  the 
"thunderheads"  are  mounting  the  sky,  it  will  be  a  good  time 
to  obser\^e  the  increased  activity  of  certain  animals,  the 
preparatory  movements  of  certain  flowers,  the  interesting 
behavior  of  the  barnyard  fowls,  and,  above  all,  to  listen  to 
the  anticipatory  chorus  of  frogs  and  tree-toads,  and  birds 
and  crickets  and  other  animals  that  can  not  keep  still. 

Then,  when  the  rains  comes,  the  water-shedding  power  of 
different  kinds  of  foliage  may  readily  be  tested,  if  members 
of  the  class  will  step  under  trees  of  different  kinds  and  wait, 
with  raised  umbrellas,  and  note  how  long  it  takes  for  the  rain- 
drops filtering  thi^ough  the  foliage  to  come  through  in  suf- 
ficient numbers  to  make  a  continuous  patter,  with  no  individual 
drops  distinguishable.  One  may  test  the  way  in  which  any 
tree  standing  in  the  open  disposes  of  the  water  that  falls 
upon  it,  by  walking  under  it  over  all  the  area  it  covers  and 
listening  to  the  sounds  of  the  drops  falling  about  his  head,  on 
the  stretched  umbrella. 

When  things  are  soaked  with  rain  and  the  water  is  gather- 
ing in  rills,  there  are  many  things  that  may  then  be  observed 
with  unusual  advantage.  The  clouding  of  the  streams 
with  inflowing  silt  will  be  very  obvious.  The  burden  the 
streams  are  carrying  may  be  easily  demonstrated.  It  may 
be  tested  by  dipping  a  glass  of  running  water  and  letting  the 
water  settle  to  see  the  sediment;    by  placing  one's  fingers 


>84 


NATURAL  IIISTURY  OF  THE  FARM 


across  the  current  so  as  to  feel  the  pehing  of  the  pebbles 
that  are  carried  by  the  nil ;  or,  by  listening  to  the  ix)uncling 
of  the  rocks  in  their  descent  of  the  larger  gullies.  Part  of 
what  the  slrtana  carries  is  floating  stuff — stems  and  leaves, 
that  will  fall  and  dcca>',  and  seeds  that  will  spring  up  in  new 
situations.  The  washing  of  different  kinds  and  conditions 
of  soil  may  be  seen.  Indeed,  it  is  only  out  in  the  rain  that 
erosion  by  the  rills,  and  the  buikhng  of  miniature  deltas 
and  flood-plains,  may  be  seen  at  their  height. 

When  the  rain  has  ceased,  the  rate  of  drying  of  the  surface 
of  different  kinds  and  conditions  of  soil  may  be  obser\^ed. 
One  should  compare  newly  plowed  and  fallow  land,  bare 
fields,  meadows  and  woods.  Certain  moisture-loving  animals 
will  be  seen  al)road  abundantly  when  the  shower  is  ended— 
snails,  slugs,  pill-bugs,  worms,  frogs,  etc.  Indeed,  the  wood 
thrush  is  likely  to  be  heard  singing  again  almost  as  soon  as 
the  downpour  is  ended;  for,  as  Alexander  Wilson  obsers'cd 
of  it,  "The  darker  the  day,  the  sweeter  is  its  song." 

The  record  of  this  study  may  properly  consist  of  notes  on 
things  heard  and  seen,  that  are  connected  in  any  way  with 
the  coming  of  the  rain. 


^ 


XLII.     THE   VINES   OF   THE   FARAI 

"They  shall  sit  every  man  under  his  vine  and  under  hisfigtree,  and  none 
shall  make  them  afraid.'' — Micah,  4:4. 

The  cultivated  crops  of  the  world  have  in  the  past  grown 
mainly  in  fields,  gardens  and  vineyards.  Many  crops  have 
been  raised  in  the  fields,  and  still  more  in  the  gardens,  but  the 
vineyards  have  been  given  over  mainly  to  one  crop — the  fruit 
of  the  vine.  There  is  but  one  vine  that  fills  any  very  large 
place  economically:  the  word  vine  means  grapevine  in 
much  of  our  ancient  literature. 

Before  the  dawn  of  history,  the  ancient  cultivator  found 
the  grape  suited  to  his  sunny  hills.  It  was  long-lived  and 
strong-rooted,  and  served  to  bind  the  soil  of  the  terraced 
slopes.  It  was  resistant  to  drought  and  adaptable  to  situa- 
tion. It  was  responsive  to  care  and  amenable  to  training. 
It  was  beautiful  in  leafage  and  fragrant  in  flower  and  luscious 
in  fruit,  and  in  every  way  desirable  about  his  home.  So  he 
made  a  vineyard  for  it,  equipped  with  a  watchtower  and  a 
wine-press,  and  he  fenced  it  in.  He  planted  and  fertilized  it 
and  pnmed  it  and  trained  it  over  arbors,  and  sat  beneath  its 
shadow.  He  ate  its  fruit  and  drank  its  vintage — and,  some- 
times, used  its  wine  to  make  him  drunken,  even  before  the 
dawn  of  history.  It  is  a  large  and  varied  role  that  the 
products  of  the  vine  have  played  in  human  affairs. 

Other  vines  besides  the  grape  are  cultivated  in  fields  and 
gardens,  but  they  are  mostly  short-lived  herbaceous  things  like 
hops,  pole-beans,  and  gourds.  One  wild  vine  with  excellent 
edible  tuberous  roots,  the  apios,  we  have  had  before  us  in 
Study  7  (fig.  37).  Aside  from  the  grape,  the  best  kno^vn  of  our 
vines  are  those  that  are  raised  for  the  singular  beauty  of  their 
flowers  and  foliage.     Splendid  flowers,  indeed,  are  those  of 

285 


286 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


the  dinibiiiK  roses  and  honeysuckles, 
of  the  searlet  tnimpet-vine,  of  the 
virij:in's-bo\ver,  of  the  moming-^lory 
and  the  sweet  pea.  Most  of  these 
are  fra^ant  as  well  as  beautiful. 
Fragrant  also  are  the  less  conspicu- 
ous flowers  of  the  wild  grape,  the 
clinibing  hemp  (Mikania  scandens) 
of  the  marshes,  and  the  apios. 

Vines  arc  plants  that  cannot  stand 
alone.  They  must  have  some  sup- 
port to  hang  or  lean  upon.  They 
vary  in  size  from  the  wild  grape  that 
revels  in  the  tops  of  the  great  trees 
of  the  forest,  to  the  little  cranberry 
that  trails  over  the  surface  of  the 
bog.  They  vary  in  strength  from 
the  wiry  rattans  to  the  succulent  cucurbits.  Some  of  them 
are  possessed  of  special  climbing  apparatus;  more  of  them 
sustain  themselves  by  twining  about  their  supports;  some 
of  the  lesser  herbaceous  sorts  maintain  their  position  merely 
by  leaning — resting  their  elbows,  so  to  speak — upon  their 
neighbors.     All  of  thcni  arc  long  of   reach   and   rapid  of 


Fn;.  120.     A  spray  of  wild  grape. 


Fin.  121.     \'irRinia  creeper  or  "  woodbine' 


THE  VINES  OF  THE  FARM 


287 


growth,  and  all  show  a  marked  capacity  for  keeping  their 
heads  out  to  the  light. 

Our  wild  vines  vary  in  habit  according  to  the  form  and 
habits  of  the  plants  that  furnish  them  support.  As  there  are 
trees  and  tall  shrubs  and  low  shrubs  in  every  woodland,  so 
there  are  high-climbing  and  intermediate  and  low-growing 
vines.  The  vines  that  are  able  to  ascend  to  the  crowns  of  the 
forest  are  all  woody  climbers,  having  perennial  stems.  They 
have  two  sorts  of  climbing  apparatus.  Wild  grape  and 
Virginia  creeper  climb  by  means  of  tendrils;  poison  i\'y  and 
trumpet-vine,  by  means  of  root-like  holdfasts  which  pene- 
trate the  bark  of  supporting  trees.  These  are  the  vines  that 
furnish  the  principal  draperies  of  our  forests;  that  garland 
with  inimitable  grace  the  old  bare  trunks;  that  spread 
incomparably  beautiful  leaf  mosaics  over  walls  and  fences  and 
over  the  crowns  of  small  trees;  and  that  fling  out  banners  of 
brilliant  hues  in  autumn.  They  often  smother  the  lesser 
spreading  trees  under  their  dense  leafage,  and  in  killing  them, 
destroy  their  own  support. 

Of  these  tall  vines,  the  wild  grape  has  the  longest  reach. 
Its  annual  shoots  often  attain  a  length  of  twenty  feet.  These 
are  equipped  with  long  and  strong  tendrils  that  coil  tightly 
about  any  suitable  small  support.  Once  fimoly  attached, 
they  seem  able  to  withstand  the  driving  of  a  hurricane. 
Failing  to  find  support,  the  shoots  hang  pendant,  Hke 
streamers,  in  the  air.  The  Virginia  creeper  likewise  wraps 
its  tendrils  about  twigs,  but  it  also  inserts  their  tips  into 
crevices,  and  then  expands  them  into  attachment  discs. 
By  means  of  these,  it  is  able  to  ascend  bare  trunks,  as  do  the 
vines  with  holdfasts,  or  to  cling  to  the  vertical  face  of  a  stone 
wall,  holding  on  with  delicate  but  unyielding  grasp. 

The  vines  that  reach  the  level  of  the  tops  of  the  largest 
shrubs  are  mainly  twiners.  They  ascend  the  shrubs  by 
twining  their  slender  stems  about  them.     The  bittersweet 


288 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  Till-:  FARM 


{Cclastrus  scajidots)  is  i)crha]3S  the  tallest  of  these,  and  has 
the  bes-.t  de\'elopinent  of  woody  stems.  It  grows  on  dry 
wooded  hills.  The  nioonseed  {Mcnispcrmwn  canadcnse) 
is  a  half-woody  twiner  that  overruns  the  bushes  in  moist 
lowland  ihiekets.     It  is  one  of  the  best  of  vines  for  shady 


Fk;.  122.     Bittersweet,  with  fruit  unopened. 

places,  and  it  has  bcautifvil  foliage.  The  large  scalloped 
lca\-es  overla])  one  another  front  the  to])  to  the  ground  like  the 
slates  on  a  roof.  There  are  herbaceous  twiners  on  the  taller 
bushes  also,  like  the  bindweeds  and  the  h()i)S.  And  the 
balsam-apple  {Fxhinocystis  lohata)  clinibs  by  neat  tendrils  of 
singular  efiiciency.  And  virgin's-bower  {Clematis  virginiana) 
and  other  species  of  Clematis,  climb  by  twisting  the  stalks 
of  leaf  and  leaflet  about  stems  for  support. 


THE  VINES  OF  THE  FARAI 


289 


Flo.  123.     An  herbaceous  climber — climbing  buckwheat. 

Of  low-growing  vines  there  is  endless  variety.  They 
twine,  they  climb,  they  sprawl.  A  few  of  the  finer  flowering 
sorts,  such  as  climbing  roses  and  honeysuckles  and  apios,  have 
already  been  mentioned.  Many  of  the  lesser  ones  have 
charming  foliage.  No  gems  glisten  more  brightly  than  do  the 
pendent  fruits  of  the  nightshade-bittersweet  (fig.  124). 
Nothing  in  the  world  is  more  beautiful  than  the  delicate 
tracery  of  these  low-climbing  things,  commingling  with  and 
garlanding  the  bushes. 

Precious  to  the  gardener  are  the  vines,  most  slender  and 
fragile  of  nature's  * 'lace-workers  of  the  woods  and  brake". 
With  them  he  may  quickly  cover  the  unsightly  shed  or  fence 
with  roods  of  blossoming  verdure.  He  may  overspread  the 
bare  walls  left  by  the 
builder  with  a  mantle 
of  varied  green  and 
brown  wrought  in  ex- 
quisite design.  He 
may  throw  a  filmy 
mantle  of  life  over 
the  top  of  mutilated 
shrubbery.  Nature 
sets  him  splendid 
models  in  every 
thicket  and  by  every 
brookside. 

Fig.  124.     The  climbing  nightshade-bittersweet. 


290 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THK  FARM 


Study  42.     The  Larger  Wild  Vines  of  the  Farm 

The  program  of  work  in  this  study  will  consist  of  a  trip 
about  the  b(jrdiTS  of  a  wood,  alon<^^  a  fence-row,  and  throuj^dia 
bottom-land  thicket,  cxaniininj;,  one  by  one,  the  dilTerent  wild 
vines  of  various  sorts,  and  writing  their  characters  in  a  table 
prepared  with  the  following  colinnn  headings: 

Name  (of  plant). 

Duration  of  stem  (annual,  bieimial,  perennial). 

Grows  where  (in  sun  or  shade,  wet  or  dry  places,  etc.). 

On  what  (name  support). 

By  what  means  (climbing  or  twining,  ^^  hen  climbing  by 
tendrils  or  holdfasts,  diagram  the  same). 
Stem  (tell  it  in  English) . 

Character  of  •    Lea\'es  (diagram) . 

Flower-cluster  or  fruit  (diagram). 

Foliage  (character  of ) . 

Season's  gro\\i:h,  (maximiun  length  of). 

Best  suited  to  what  situation  and  use. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of: 

1 ,  The  complete  table,  outlined  above. 

2.  A  little  special  report  concerning  some  one  very  com- 
mon vine,  stating  in  what  variety  of  situations  it  is  foimP 
growing,  and  with  what  dififerent  kinds  of  supi^orts. 


-     XLIII.     THE  SWALE 

"Bubble,  bubble,  flows  the  stream. 
Here  a  glow  arid  there  a  gleam; 
Coolness  all  about  me  creeping, 
Fragrance  all  my  senses  steeping, — 
Spice  wood,  sweet-gum,  sassafras, 
Calamus  and  water-grass, 
Giving  up  their  pungent  smells. 
Drawft  from  Nature's  secret  wells.'' 

— Maurice  Thompson. 

Waste  land  is  land  we  have  not  learned  how  to  use. 
Much  of  it  is  too  dry,  and  lacking  water — the  prime  requi- 
site for  plant  growth — ^it  produces  little,  even  of  wild  crops. 
Much  of  it  is  too  wet  and,  therefore,  unsuited  to  our  agri- 
cultural methods,  though  nature  produces  on  it  her  most 
abimdant  crops.  Much  of  it  is  too  rocky,  and  imsuited  to 
the  use  of  our  implements  of  tillage.  Deserts  and  rocks 
and  swamps  overspread  vast  areas  of  the  earth's  surface. 
But  miniature  waste  places  of  like  character  appear  in  sand- 
ridge  and  stony  slope  and  swale  on  many  an  inland  fann. 

Let  us  study  the  swale  a  bit — that  most  interesting  and 
most  productive  of  waste  areas.  We  will  find  it  among  the 
tilled  fields,  where  their  gentle  slopes  run  together,  forming 
a  depression  that  is  poorly  drained.  We  will  find  it  over- 
spreading the  level  surface  of  some  miniature  valley  between 
upland  hills,  or  by  the  stream-side  or  at  the  head  of  a  bay 
or  pond.  In  such  places  the  crops  that  we  know  how  to  raise 
on  farms  will  not  thrive.  There  is  too  much  water.  The  soil 
is  soft  under  foot.  Though  black  with  hmnus,  and  enriched 
with  the  washings  from  surrounding  slopes,  it  is  sour,  and 
unavailable  to  our  field  crops. 

It  has  its  own  crops,  and  they  are  never-failing.  Always 
it  is  a  flowery  meadow,  densely  crowded  with  plants  of  many 
kinds  in  interesting  association.     It  is  a  place  of  rushes  and 

291 


292  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

SL'dgcs,  rather  than  of  grasses.  It  is  a  place  of  abundant 
flowers  the  whole  season  through,  from  the  cowslips  and 
cresses  of  spring  to  the  asters  and  gentians  of  autumn. 
It  is  a  ]ilace  where  crawfish  sink  their  wells,  urunolested  by 
the  plow,  piling  little  circular  mounds  of  exca\'aled  earth 
about  the  entrance;  a  place  where  rabbits  hide,  and  where 
song-birds  build  their  nests;  a  place  where  the  meadow 
mice  and  shrews  spread  a  network  of  runwa>'s  over  the 
ground:  in  short,  a  i)lace  where  rich  soil  and  almndant  light 
and  moisture  support  a  dense  population,  among  which  the 
struggle  for  existence  is  keen. 

If  a  fence-row  extend  down  from  the  field  into  the  swale, 
let  us  follow  that,  and  see  how  the  wild  plants  change  with 
increasing  soil  moisture.  The  grasses  of  the  fence-row  begin 
to  be  crowded  out  by  sedges  as  the  water-level  comes  nearer 
the  surface  of  the  soil.  Dry-ground  asters  and  goldcnrods 
and  lobelias  disappear,  and  wet  groimd  species  of  the  same 
groups  appear  instead.  Bracken  fern  is  replaced  by  marsh- 
fern  and  sensitive  fern;  hazel  by  willow.  Under  foot,  the 
soil  is  gro\^'ing  softer,  blacker  and  more  spongy. 

If  the  swale  has  been  cleared  of  woody  plants,  still  alders 
and  willows  are  prone  to  linger  about  the  wetter  places,  and 
black-berried  elder,  osier-dogwood  and  meadowsweet  about 
the  edges.  Cat-tails  and  bulrushes  (fig.  i6,  p.  36)  will  fringe 
any  open  w^et  spot,  and  tussock-sedges  and  clumps  of  juncus 
will  rise  on  mounds  of  gathered  humus,  like  stumbling-blocks 
before  our  feet,  where  dilTuscd  springs  abound. 

No  two  swales  arc  alike  in  the  character  of  their  plant 
population.  But  all  agree  in  their  meadowlike  appearance, 
in  being  made  up  of  patches  of  rather  unifonn  character, 
where  uniform  conditions  ]3rcvail,  and  in  ha\-ing  each  of  these 
areas  dominated  by  one  or  two  si-iccics  of  plants,  with  a 
number  of  lesser  plants  as  "fillers"  in  its  midst,  and  a  greater 
variety  of  iniscellaneous  plants  growing  about  its  edges. 


THE  SWALE 


293 


The  dominant  plants  that  cover  consider- 
able areas  of  the  swale,  almost  to  the 
exclusion  of  other  plants,  are  mainly 
grass-like  plants,  capable  of  close  gro^vth 
above  ground  and  nearly  complete  occu- 
pation of  the  soil.  They  are  such  marsh 
grasses  as  the  panicularias  (from  which 
marsh  hay  is  made)  and  reed,  on  wetter 
Fig.  125.  A  heavy  cius-  soil;  such  bulrushcs  as  SciTpus  fluviatilis\ 
(FaHLX?a"S'a^t'e?  such  otlicr  plants,  as  cat-tails  and  bur- 

Britton  and  Brown.  ^^^^^   ^^^^    ^^y^      ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^ 

sweet  flag  {Acorus  calamus)  and  blue  flag  {Iris  versicolor). 
Where  these  grow  most  compactly,  there  are  a  few  lesser 
plants  intermixed,  filling  the  niches,  reaching  into  light 
above  and  spreading  roots  in  the  superficial  layers  of  the  soil. 
With  permanent  conditions,  the  mixtvire  of  plants  will 
remain  much  the  same  year  after  year.  They  are  nearly  all 
perennials,  holding  their  place  by  continuous  occupancy  of 
it.  Each  is  striving  to  extend  its  domain,  but  there  is  Httle 
opportunity.  In  the  permanent  association  of  certain  species 
together  there  are  some  fine  mutual  adjustments.  The 
taller  broad-leaved  perennials,  like  swamp-milkweed  and 
joe-pye-weed  and  boneset,  root  rather  deeply,  and  stand 
stifay  erect.  The  top  layers 
of  the  soil  are  left  by  them 
to  such  lesser  things  as  marsh 
skullcap,  bedstraws,  and 
tear-thumbs,  whose  strag- 
gling sprays  reach  out  and 
find  the  light.  The  annual 
herbs  of  the  swale  are  few; 
they  are  such  as  jewel-weed 
and  Spanish  needles,  that 
depend  for  their  opportunity 


Flower  and  fruit  of  the  jewel- 


294  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

to  find  a  place  on  some  disturbance  of  existing  condi- 
tions. A  niuskrat  or  a  mole  U])hcaves  a  mound  of  earth, 
and  the  seeds  of  these  annual  weeds,  fallinj^  into  this 
imoccna]  icd  soil,  flourish  there  for  a  season  ere  the  root- 
stocks  of  more  permanent  perennials  again  invade  it.  The 
annuals  of  the  swale  are  quick-growing  things,  that  depend 
for  their  success  in  the  world  upon  their  ability  to  shift 
from  place  to  place,  to  find  new  o]:)enings,  and  to  get  in 
and  mature  a  crop  of  seeds  before  the  perennials  crowd 
them  out  again. 

There  are  many  beautiful  and  interesting  flowers  in  the 
sw^ale :  yellow  flowers,  such  as  Saint  John's  wort,  buttercups, 
goldcnrods  and  loosestrife;  blue  flowers,  such  as  monkey- 
flowers,  lobelias  and  gentians ;  white  flowers,  such  as  meadow- 
rue,  turtleheads,  avens  and  cresses;  pink  flowers,  such  as 
cockle-mint,  willow-herb,  fleabane  and  marshmallows ;  red 
swamp-lilies  and  flaming  scarlet  cardinal -flowers ;  and  others 
in  great  variety  and  in  continual  succession.  Forms  like  those 
that  grow  on  shoals  (mentioned on  page  35)  will  appear  if  there 
be  pcmiancnt  0])cn  water.  Indeed,  a  careful  study  of  even 
a  small  swale  might  discover  the  presence  of  a  hundred  or 
more  plant  species.  Ten  or  a  dozen  of  these  are  likely  to  be 
found  to  comprise  the  greater  bulk  of  the  plant  po]nilation. 
The  dominant  species  are  mainly  those  having  comparatively 
simple  and  inconspicuous  flowers,  w^hose  pollen  is  distributed 
by  winds.  The  dominant  species  extend  their  domain  chiefly 
by  strong  vegetative  offshoots,  occui)y  the  soil  with  strong 
roots,  and  never  let  go. 


THE  SWALE  295 

Study  43.     Observations  on  the  Plant  Life  of  a  Swale 

Some  small  open  area  of  wet  ground,  well  grown  up  in  wild 
meadow,  londrained,  and  not  pastured,  should  be  selected 
for  this  study.  An  outline  map  should  be  provided,  unless 
the  form  be  simple.  Digging  tools  will  be  needed,  and  also 
facilities  for  washing  roots. 

The  program  of  work  may  consist  of : 

1 .  A  general  survey  of  the  swale  as  to : 

(a)  The  mixing  of  dr>^-groimd  and  wet-groimd  forms  at 

its  margin. 

(b)  The  areas  into  which  it  is  naturally  marked  out  by 

the  uniformity  of  the  plant  growth  covering  them 
("plant  associations"). 

(c)  The  relation  between  topography,  soils  and  water  and 

these  plant  associations. 

2.  An  examination  of  the  plants  in  several  associations 
as  to  the  relations  they  bear  to  one  another  both  above  and 
below  ground.  Some  should  be  cut  so  that  the  leafage  may 
be  viewed  from  the  side  as  well  as  from  above;  and  some 
should  be  dug  up,  so  that  the  depth  and  distribution  of  the 
roots  may  be  noted. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1.  A  map  of  the  swale,  with  topographic  features  and  the 
principal  plant  associations  (including  bordering  shrubbery) 
marked  out  upon  it,  ,  Explanations  to  the  map  should  name 
at  least  the  dominant  species  present  in  each  association. 

2.  Diagrams,  illustrating  vertical  sections  of  the  swale 

herbage,  showing  the  relations  of  the  principal  components 

of  several  associations,  both  above  and  below  ground.     These 

should  show  how  the  branches  of  each  species  are  placed  to 

reach  the  light,  and  how  the  roots  are  distributed  in  the  soil. 

[Note:  The  above  program  is  laid  out  in  the  behcf  that  the  study 
of  the  swale  will  be  most  instructive  if  we  seek  to  learn  how  the  various 
members  of  nature's  dense  wet-ground  population  get  on  together; 
but  if  an  acquaintance  with  the  entire  plant  population  be  desired,  the 
record  may  take  the  form  of  an  annotated  and  illustrated  list  of  species.  | 


XIJV.     Till'    in^AMBLES   OF   TITF   FARM 

"Erratic  'cauderiugs  through  deadenitig-lands 
Where  sly  old  briimhles  pluckiug  me  by  stealth 
Put  berries  in  my  hands." 

— Riley  (.t  Country  Pathway). 

Brambles  arc  intunatc  associates  of  the  farmer.  Wherever 
man  has  tilled  a  field,  thorny  things  of  some  sort  have  settled 
I^eaceably  along  its  borders.  Ever  ready  to  invade  the 
"garden  of  the  slothful,"  they  have  had  a  share  in  promoting 
regular  tillage.  Just  beyond  the  domain  of  the  plow,  they 
stop  and  hold  the  fort.  They  are  wild  intractable  things,  no 
respecters  of  clothes,  nor  of  feelings,  nor  of  any  of  the  ways  of 
civilization.     Under  their  cover  other  wild  things  dwell. 

Before  there  were  famis,  the  brambles  doubtless  occupied 
the  openings  in  the  woods  where  giant  trees  had  recently 
fallen,  and  other  spots  left  temporarily  unoccupied ;  for,  after 
the  annual  weeds,  they  are  among  the  first  plants  to  appear 
in  such  places.  Their  seeds  are  planted  by  birds,  which  eat 
their  berries.  Hence  the  dead  tree,  the  fence,  the  stone  pile 
or  the  stimip  pile  in  the  field,  or  any  other  thing  in  the  open 
ground  that  offers  an  alighting  place  for  birds,  is  sure  to  have 
a  lot  of  brambles  about  it. 

They  spring  first  from  seeds,  but  later  they  spread  lustily 
from  offshoots  of  various  kinds,  and  fonn  thickets.  The 
more  typical  brambles  (thoniy  members  of  the  genus  Rtibus) 
have  short-lived  stems,  which  early  crowd  out  the  weeds,  and 
after  a  few  years  are  themseh'cs  outstrii:)]:)ed  and  overtopped 
and  shaded  and  killed  by  taller-growing  shrubs  and  trees.  In 
the  woods,  therefore,  their  occupancy  of  any  given  place 
where  trees  ma}-  grow  is  but  temporar}^ :  but  in  the  fence-row 
where  the  farmer  keeps  the  trees  cut  down,  thc>'  may  h(^ld  on 
indefinitel}'.  If  mowed  or  burned,  they  spring  up  again  from 
uninjured  roots. 

296 


THE  BRAMBLES  OF  THE  FARM 


297 


Our  most  typical  bramble  is  the  wild  blackberry. 
Its  stout,  thorny  biennial  canes  shoot  up  to  full  height 
one  year,  and  bloom  and  fruit  and  die  the  next.  Year 
by  year,  the  dead  canes,  commingled  with  the  living,  accum- 
mulate  in  the  bramble  patch,  making  it  more  and  more 
impenetrable.  They  gather  to  themselves  as  they  settle  to 
the  earth,  an  abundance  of  falling  leaves,  and  fill  up  the  center 

of  the  thicket 
with  a  rich 
mulch  that 
keeps  the 
ground  moist, 
and  favors  the 
gro\\i:h  of  the 
tallest  canes 
and  the  finest 
berries.  There 
is  no  chance  for 
grass  to  grow  in 
the  midst  of 
such  a  thicket, 
but  only  about 
its  borders. 
The  wild  red 
raspberry  makes  thickets  that  are  less  thorny  and  less 
dense,  but  that  are  hard  to  penetrate  because  the  long 
overarching  canes,  fastened  to  the  earth  at  both  ends, 
trip  one  up  badly.  The  red  canes,  covered  with  whitish 
bloom  and  bearing  handsome  and  gracefully  poised 
leaves,  are  very  beautiful.  This  bramble  loves  the  shelter 
of  a  brush  pile  or  fallen  tree.  Its  extremely  long  reach  and  its 
habit  of  striking  root  wherever  a  tip  meets  the  ground,  enable 
it  to  shift  its  location,  moving  one  stride  each  season.  It 
often  springs  from  seed  on  the  top  of  some  rotting  log  or 
stump. 


Pig.  127.     Wild  blackberry:     A  young  shoot  of  the  season, 
fruiting  shoot,  and  a  dead  cane. 


298  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

The  dewberr}'  foniis  low,  trailing,  nearly  thoniless 
thickets  at  the  level  of  one's  shoetops  in  dry  fields.  There 
are  other  blaekberries  and  raspberries  also,  in  both  wetter  and 
drier  situations,  and  many  other  thorny  things,  such  as  wild 
rose,  wild  gooseberry  (fig.  3  on  p.  1 8)  and  greenbrier,  in  the 

thorny  thickets 
of  the  farm. 
But  such  as 
those  above 
described  are 
the  ones  that 
have  most 
affected  human 
interests.  Fit 
only  to  be  burn- 
ed— except 
when  (as  not 
infrequently), 
without  care  or 
thought     from 

^^^^   ^^W^^^^V^^^^>^^C^^^^^  us,  they  happen 

to     be     found 

bearing  a  load 

of  luscious  fruit. 

Their    fruit- 

FiG.  12s.     Wild  red  raspberry.  .  •        ,i  -i  j 

ing  in  the  wild 
we  may,  indeed,  with  profit  obser\'e,  if  we  would  manage 
'udsely  their  cultivated  relatives;  for  in  the  wild  we  may 
easily  see  what  sort  of  soil  and  amount  of  shading  and  kind 
of  mulch  produce  the  finest  crop  of  fruit.  Their  love  for 
partially  shaded  situations  renders  raspberries  especially 
adapted  to  be  used  as  "fillers"  in  young  orchards. 

Any  good  blackberry  patch,  clustering  about  an  old  stone 
heap  or  rail  pile  in  a  pasture,  ^^'ill  give  an  excellent  opportunity 


THE  BRAMBLES  OF  THE  FARM 


299 


for  observing  the  mutual  helpfulness 
of  many  of  the  wild  things  in  nature. 
At  the  edges  of  the  clump,  the  adven- 
turous new  bramble  sprouts,  ventur- 
ing out  too  far,  are  cropped  with  the 
grass  by  the  cattle:  but,  wherever 
a  stem  has  lived  to  harden  its  thorns, 
close  by  it  new  sprouts  may  raise 
their  heads  in  safety.  So  may  other 
herbage  also,  some  common  asso- 
ciates of  the  brambles,  being  cudweed 
and  goldenrod  and  bracken  fern  and 
elder.  The  seeds  of  the  last  named 
are  doubtless  planted  also  by  the 
birds.  The  grass  grows  tall  in  a  peri- 
pheral zone  among  the  canes,  and 
under  its  matted 
tufts    numerous 


Fig.  129.    Wild  rose. 


runways  of 
meadow  mice  are  to  be  found.  And  it 
is  a  poor  brier  patch,  even  tho  it  be  a 
small  one,  that  does  not  shelter  the  door 
of  a  deep  burrow  of  some  family  of 
woodchucks,  skunks  or  rabbits.  Lovers 
of  Uncle  Remus  will  remember  that  Brer 
Rabbit  proclaimed  the  brier-patch  to 
be  the  place  of  his  nativity.  * 


Fig.  130.     Cudweed. 


*"Co'se  Brer  Fox  wanter  hurt  Brer  Rabbit  bad  ez  he  kin,  so  he  cotch 
'im  by  de  behime  legs,  en  slung  'im  right  in  de  middle  er  de  brier-patch. 
Dar  wuz  a  considerbul  flutter  whar  Brer  Rabbit  struck  de  bushes,  en 
Brer  Fox  sorter  hang  'roun'  fer  ter  see  w'at  wuz  gwincter  happen. 
Bimeby  he  hear  some  body  call  'im,  en  way  up  de  hill  he  see  Brer  Rabbit 
settin'  cross-legged  on  a  chinkapin  log  koamin'  de  pitch  outen  his  har 
wid  a  chip.  .  .  .  Brer  Rabbit  .  .  .  holler  out:  "Bred  en 
bawn  in  a  brier-patch,  Brer  Fox — bred  en  bawn  in  a  brier-patch!" — 
Harris  ( Uncle  Remus,  p.  18.) 


300  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

Brambles  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  ax.  In  deadenings  of 
standing  timber  they  flourish  apace — a  transient  population, 
soon  submerged  if  trees  be  allowed  to  grow  again,  and  easily 
eradicated  with  the  plow.  Yet  feeble  and  transient  as  they 
are,  they  are  e\'er  with  us  in  those  nooks  and  angles  of  the 
fann  that  are  neither  plowed  nor  tree-covered,  and  all  manner 
of  vn\d  things  love  them. 

Study  44.     The  Brambles  of  the  Farm 

The  object  of  this  study  is  to  learn  something  of  the 
interesting  habits  of  this  Uttle-cstecmed  class  of  wild  plants, 
something  of  the  conditions  of  their  existence,  of  their  rela- 
tions to  other  plants  and  animals,  and  of  their  relations  to 
ordinary  fanning  operations. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of : 

1 .  Digging  up  in  the  patches  specimens  of  all  kinds  of 
brambles,  examining  them,  root  and  branch,  'and  making 
brief  notes  and  sketches  for  the  list  mentioned  below. 

2.  Examining  in  some  pasture  the  make-up  of  a  typical 
blackberry  patch  that  is  spreading  from  an  old  fence  or  brush 
pile  or  stone  heap. 

3.  Comparing  the  growth  of  specimens  of  some  one  com- 
mon kind  of  bramble,  as  the  blackberry,  in  different  situa- 
tions, in  relation  to  conditions  in  each  place. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  consist  of: 

1.  An  illustrated  list  of  all  the  brambles  studied,  with 
diagrams  showing,  for  each  species,  manner  of  growth,  mode 
of  increase,  succession  of  stems  (canes),  flowering  or  fruiting, 

etc. 

2.  A  diagram  of  a  vertical  section  of  a  brier  patch,  show- 
ing the  briers  in  their  relative  height  and  abundance  from 
center  to  margin,  showing  dead  mulch  and  green  ground- 
cover   herbage,    showing    the    conunon    plants   intermixed, 


THE  BRAMBLES  OF  THE  FARM  301 

including  at  least  one  small  tree,  and  showing  the  location  of 
nests,  runways,  or  burrows  of  such  resident  animals  as  are 
noted.  Both  the  preceding  diagrams  call  for  clear  and 
detailed  labels  and  explanations. 

3 .  A  brief  statement  of  the  best  and  worst  natural  condi- 
tions found  for  good  growth  and  fruit  production  in  the 
bramble  selected  for  special  study. 


XLV.     Tin-   P(  )PULATIOX  OF  AX  OLD  Al'PLi:  TRKE 

'".l/v  host  7L'(js  (1  hountiful  apple  tree: 
He  utive  me  shelter  and  flourished  we 
With  the  best  of  fare,  all  fresh  and  free. 

And  light-unnged  guests  came  not  a  fetv. 
To  his  leafy  inn,  and  sipped  the  deu\ 
And  sang  their  best  songs  ere  they  fletv. 

I  slept  at  night  on  a  downy  bed 

Of  moss,  and  my  host  benignly  spread 

His  own  cool  shado-M  over  my  head.'' 

— Thomas  Westwood  {Mine  Host). 

There  are  few  trees  about  the  fann  home  so  well  beloved 
in  childhood  as  the  old  apple  trees.  The  grass  grows  like  a 
car|3et  under  their  S]:)reading  crowTis.  Their  smooth  hori- 
zontal boughs  seem  to  ha^-e  been  made  to  climb  in.  Their 
fruit  was  certainly  made  to  eat.  Food  and  shade  and 
pleasant  pastime — all  these  for  us,  and  not  for  us  alone,  but 
for  many  other  creatures  as  well. 

The  robin  loves  to  build  her  plastered  nest  in  the  stout 
crotch  of  the  apple  bough  where  we'll  concealed  by  the  leaves 
on  a  few  tliin  "water-sprouts."  The  dove  selects  a  horizontal 
spray,  and  lays  her  thin  platfonn  of  t\\ng3  across  the  level 
branches.  Catbird  and  thrush  and  many  other  song-birds 
search  the  thickest  of  the  unpruned  cro\\Tis  for  home-sites. 
The  apple  tree  covers  them  with  its  leaves  and  embowers 
them  with  its  flowers  in  the  time  of  nest  building,  and  sup- 
ports, all  summer  long,  a  multitude  of  insects  that  ser\'e 
them  well  for  food.  In  an  old  * 'stag-headed'*  tree,  the 
dead  and  hollow  snag  may  be  perforated  and  occupied 
by  woodpeckers,  or  later  by  wrens  and  s])arrows.  But 
whether  woodpeckers  find  a  nesting  place  in  the  apple 
tree  or  not,  they  find  food  in  it,  in  the  insects  that 
burrow  in  its  bark  and  wood.     One  may  hear  their  tapping 

302 


THE  POPULATION  OF  AN  OLD  APPLE  TREE         303 

in  the  orchard  at  almost  any  time;  and  by  carefully  watch- 
ing, may  see  them  chiseling  holes  with  their  stout  beaks, 
and  extracting  borers  from  the  wood,  or  caterpillars  hidden 
under  the  hca\'y  flakes  of  bark.  Their  perforations  may  be 
foimd  on  any  old  tree,  especially  in  bark  and  dead  bough. 
Often  there  are  sap-pits  to  be  seen,  also,  in  the  fresh  green 
bark  of  the  larger  boughs.  These  are  placed  in  regular  trans- 
verse rows,  close  together.  They  are  made  by  sapsuckers, 
at  the  time  of  sap-flow  in  the  early  s]:)ring  (see  Chapter  2  2 , 
page  169).  These  are  made  to  "bleed"  the  tree  and  not  to 
rid  it  of  pests.  They  are  not  very  harmful,  however,  for  they 
are  made  in  such  a  way  that  they  quickly  heal  in  the  grow- 
ing season.  The  pits  are  small,  and  living  bark  from  which 
new  growth  may  spread  is  left  between  the  pits.  Nature 
has  taught  the  sapsuckers  how  to  take  the  sap  and  soft  fiber 
of  the  inner  bark  from  the  trees  without  seriously  injuring 
them.  The  sapsuckers  pay  for  this  by  eating  injurious 
insects  that  hide  beneath  the  old  and  flaky  bark  of  the  trunks. 

A  few  birds  are  residents  in  the  trees,  but  many  others 
come  and  go.  Some,  like  crows  and  jays,  slip  in  unawares, 
merely  to  peck  holes  in  the  reddest  of  the  apples  on  the 
upper  boughs.  Others,  like  ctickoos,  come  to  feed  on  cater- 
pillars. There  are  many  mammals  that  like  apples  as  well 
as  we  do ;  and  some  small  wild  ones  make  nocturnal  visits  to 
the  orchard.  There  are  many  insects  that  visit  it,  in  blos- 
soming time,  for  nectar  or  for  pollen,  as  we  have  seen  in 
Study  30.  But  the  most  important  part  of  the  population 
of  the  apple  tree  is  the  resident  population,  composed  of 
insects  that  are  wholly  dependent  on  the  apple  tree  for  their 
livelihood. 

These  are  both  beneficial  and  injurious  insects ;  and  the  latter 
will  usually  appear  to  be  in  excess.  There  is  no  part  of  the 
tree  exempt  from  the  attacks  of  some  of  them.  On  the 
roots,  tilers  are  wooly  aphids  clustering  and  causing  rounded 


304  NATURAL  HISTORY  oF  Till-    FARM 

galls  to  grow  where  they  make  ]ninetnr(s  with  their  beaks. 
On  the  new  bark  and  on  the  leafy  shoots,  there  are  other 
ai)hids  feeding  together  in  great  coloni(^s,  gregariously. 
These,  though  minute  and  ineons])icuous  in  themselves,  are 
readily  located  on  new  shoots  because  of  the  crinkling  they 
cause  the  leaves  to  undergo.  On  an  old  neglected  a])])le 
tree,  there  are  a])t  to  be  many  minute  scale-insects  scattered 
about,  adherent  to  the  bark  of  the  green  t^^^gs.  These  are 
very  minute  and  incons]:)icuous  creatures,  that  SLppcav  life- 
less, indeed,  but  they  are,  by  reason  of  the  persistence  of  their 
attack  and  their  very  rapid  rate  of  increase, 
among  the  worst  enemies  of  the  trees. 

Of  caterpillars,  there  is  a  long  succession 
and  a  great  variety  to  be  found  on  the  apple 
tree.  In  spring,  the  tent-cateri^illar  spins  its 
huge  webs  conspicuously  in  the  crotches 
of  the  apple  boughs.  Though  the  tent-cater- 
PiG.  131.  Oyster-  piU^rs  wiU  all  be  gone  before  midsummer 
appie''?l-fR°"a^d  and  a  new  gro\\i:h  ^^dll  be  replacing  the  leaves 

one  enlarged.  ^^^^^   ^^   ^j^^^^^^    ^j^^-^.     empty   WCbS   WiU   Still 

be  seen  upon  neglected  trees.  In  their  stead,  two  other 
moth  lar\'ae,  popularly  known  as  the  yellow-necked  and  the 
red-humped  caterpillars,  may  be  found  devastating  the 
foliage.  Other  lesser  cateq^illars  that  injure  the  leaves  arc 
the  bud-moth  caterpillar,  that  works  in  opening  buds,  the 
pistil-case-bearer  that  gnaws  out  little  patches  from 
the  surfaces  of  the  leaf,  and  the  apple -leaf -miner,  that 
lives  within  the  leaf  substance,  making  a  ti-umpet-shaped 
blotch  of  a  mine  between  upper  and  lower  e]:)idcrmis.  The 
last  two  will  be  found  by  looking  for  s])otted  leaves  that 
have  their  margins  uninjured. 

The  fruit  of  the  apple  is  the  place  of  residence  for  three 
insects  of  the  sort  shown  in  figure  6  on  page  22.  The  larva 
of  the  codling-moth  is  a  caterpillar  that  works  in  the  core  of 
the  apple.     The  larva  of  the  a])ple-curculio  is  a  weevil  that 


THE  POPULATION  OF  AN  OLD  APPLE  TREE 


305 


works  in  the  flesh  of  the  apple,  its  location  being  marked 
by  a  conspicuous  surface  scar.  The  apple -maggot  works  also 
in  the  flesh,  burrowing  through  it  in  all  directions,  and  leav- 
ing discolored  streaks  from  which  rotting  proceeds.  Then 
there  are  beetles,  whose  larvae  are  borers,  the  most  injurious 
of  which  work  beneath  the  bark  of  young  trees  at  the  surface 
of  the  ground,  more  or  less  completely  girdling  the  trees. 
Two  or  three  of  these  burrows  may  kill  a  large  tree.  These 
illustrate  the  appalling  harm  that  may  come  from  a  small 
wound  in  a  critical  place ;  these  cut  off  the  tree-cro\\TL  from 
its  base  of  supplies. 


Fig.  132.     A  plant  bug, 


its  nymph. 


and  a  leaf-hopper. 


These  are  the  worst  of  the  apple  pests.  Others  there  are 
in  plenty,  that  feed  here  and  there,  now  and  then.  Plant 
bugs  and  leaf -hoppers  are  always  present  in  some  numbers 
among  the  foliage,  feeding.  And  in  an  old  tree,  having  much 
dead  wood  present,  there  are  sure  to  be  foimd  wood-destroy- 
ing beetles  of  most  of  the  sorts  mentioned  in  Study  24. 
And  each  and  every  one  of  these  species  has  its  enemies 
and  its  train  of  parasites. 

The  apple  tree  is  useful  to  us,  but  it  is  necessary  to  many 
lesser  creatures,  for  it  fiunishes  all  their  living.  It  is  the 
center  of  a  considerable  population,  the  inter-relations  of 
which  are  of  infinite  complexity.  There  is  no  living  thing 
that  either  lives  or  dies  unto  itself  alone. 


3o6  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  TIIK  FARM 

Study  45.     The  Population  of  an  Old  Apple  Tree 

An  orchard  of  old  neglected  apple  trees  should  be  selected 
for  this  study.  A  few  tools  will  be  needed  for  coninion  use: 
saws  for  bringing  do\\'n  branches;  haniniers  for  stri]^ping 
bark;  nets  for  "sweeping"  the  foliage  to  capture  flying  in- 
sects; and  cyanide  bottles  to  hold  specimens  pending  their 
identification. 

The  program  of  work  will  consist  of: 

1.  A  preliminary  sur\'ey  of  the  trees  (to  be  made  while 
walking  among  them,  by  the  members  of  the  class  observing 
tilings  together)  to  discover  the  location  of  birds'  nests;  the 
work  of  woodpeckers,  of  mice,  etc. ;  the  old  nests  of  tcnt- 
catcrpillars;  fresh  defoliation  by  caterpilalrs;  colonies  of 
aphids  and  scalc-insccts;   the  presence  of  wormy  fruit,  etc. 

2.  A  detailed  examination  (to  be  made  by  members  of 
the  class  individually)  of  the  life  to  be  found  on  or  in  the 
leaves,  bark,  twigs  and  fruit  of  a  single  tree.  Old  bark  should 
be  stripped  off  and  its  crevices  examined;  new  bark  should 
be  searched  carefully.  Every  discoloration  or  deformation 
of  the  leaves  should  be  looked  into,  and  fruits  should  be 
cut  open  and  searched  carefully.  Those  examining  diHerent 
trees  may,  with  profit,  compare  results  in  the  end. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of : 

1 .  A  large  diagram  of  a  single  api)le  tree  with  the  location 
of  the  members  of  its  population,  that  affect  the  green  and 
living  tree,  indicated  (by  s>Tnbols  and  explanatory  footnotes) 
upon  it. 

2.  An  amiotated  list  of  the  entire  i^pulation  in  tliree parts: 

(a)  Transient  visitors. 

(b)  Resident  enemies. 

(c)  Parasites  and  ])redaceous  insects. 

The  notes  should  cover  the  relations  that  each  species 
bears  to  the  apple  tree. 


XLVL  THE  LITTLE  BROOK  GONE  DRY 

"/«  heat  the  quivering  landscape  lies; 
The  cattle  pant  beneath  the  tree; 
Through  parching  air  and  purple  skies 

The  earth  looks  up  in  vain  for  thee; 
For  thee,  for  thee,  it  looks  in  vain, 
0  gentle,  gentle  summer  rain." 

— William  C.  Bennett  (Invocation  to  Rain). 

When  summer  comes,  many  brooks  cease  their  singing. 
When  the  leafage  of  the  season  is  developed,  the  surplus 
water  of  the  soil  ceases  to  feed  the  brooks;  for  it  is  gathered 
by  the  plant  roots  and  distilled  silently  through  the  pores 
of  innumerable  leaves  into  the  thirsty  atmosphere.  The 
silvery  streams  become  broken  into  segregated  pools,  which 
dwindle  and  dwindle  as  the  drouth  increases.  Where  the 
floods  of  springtime  made  their  deepest  plunges,  there  lie 
basins  of  bare  mud.  Truly  the  brook's  inhabitants  are 
subject  to  sore  vicissitudes;  to  the  ice  of  winter  and  the 
floods  of  spring  is  now  added  the  severest  test  of  all — the 
withdrawal  of  the  water. 

Let  us  take  our  way  up  the  bed  of  some  small  stream  that 
has  lingered  well  through  a  long  dry  season,  but  has  finally 
gone  dry.  How  great  are  the  changes  in  the  conditions  of 
life!  Here,  where  shining  water  played  among  the  pebbles, 
toying  with  their  dainty  drapery  of  green  and  brown  algae, 
there  is  nothing  left  on  stones  and  brook-bed  but  a  gray 
powder  that  crumbles  to  dust  at  a  touch.  There,  where  was 
a  pool,  where  tadpoles  basked  and  water-skaters  raced  over 
the  surface,  now  lies  a  sheet  of  baked  mud,  caked  and 
cracked  in  deep  fissures.  The  Hfe  of  the  brook  itself  is  gone : 
at  least,  it  is  gone  from  the  places  in  which  we  usually  find 
it.  And  yet,  we  know  it  will  reappear,  for  where  there  is 
drouth  now,  there  has  been  drouth  before,  and  failure  of 

307 


3o8 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Fig.  133.     "Pitchforks"'  or  "Spanish  Needles"  in  flower 
see  fig,  39  on  page  69  for  fruit. 


water,  times  in- 
numerable, tliru 
past  centuries : 
and  we  know  that 
nature  maintains 
in  the  brook  only 
such  plants  and 
animals  as  are 
ca])able,  in  one 
way  or  another, 
of  meeting  the  exigencies  of  such  times  as  this. 

If  the  aquatic  plants  have  disappeared,  and  the  aquatic 
animals  also,  sa\'e  for  a  few  that  may  be  discovered  hiding 
under  trash  in  the  moister  places,  there  wdll  be  found  plenty 
of  semi-aquatic  brookside  things  still  remaining.  There 
^^'ill  be  weeds  of  many  sorts,  overhanging  and  brushing 
against  us  as  we  pass  up  the  chamicl;  willow-herbs  and 
pitch-forks  (fig.  133)  in  the  sun,  and  rich  weed  (fig.  134)  in 
the  sliady  places.     Then  there  will  be  coarse  and  straggling 


Richweed  {Pilea  puniila). 


THE  LITTLE  BROOK  GONE  DRY 


30^ 


sedges;  also,  some  fine  close-growing  tussock-sedges,  that 
build  hillocks  of  green  at  the  edges  of  the  channel.  There 
will  be  grasses,  also;  especially  the  pale  cut-grass  (Leersia), 
fringing  the  edges  of  former  pools.     There  will  be  a  few  fine 

mints,  such  as  pepper- 
mint, spearmint,  water- 
mint,  and  the  less 
attractive  bugle-weed. 
There  will  be  a  few  fine 
wild  flowers,  such  as 
turtleheads,  skullcaps 
and  lobelias.  There 
will  be  evidences  of 
animal  life  in  the  tracks 
of  the  muskrat  and  of 
birds  in  the  dried  mud- 
bed  of  the  pools. 

Robins,  that  sit,  while 
we  pass  by,  on  the  lower 
branches  of  the  trees, 
with  gaping  beaks,  pant- 
ing in  the  shade — these 
have  been  exploring  the 
brook-bed  before  us. 
They  have  been  seeking 
for  things  to  replace 
earthworms  in  their 
diet,  since  the  dr^ang 
of  the  topsoil  in  the 
fields  has  driven  the 
worms  doTVTi  below .  Other  things  there  are  to  take  advantage 
of  the  hapless  brook-dwellers.  The  concentration  of  the 
pools  leaves  their  inhabitants  exposed  to  merciless 
enemies. 


Fig.  135.  A  late-season  spray  of  the  fowl 
meadow-grass  {Panictdaria  nervata) ,  show- 
ing vegetative  aerial  offsets  with  roots:  a  small 
lateral  oflEset  is  shown  enlarged  at  the  right. 


3IO 


NATURAL  HISTOkY  (>F  THE  FARM 


\\'herc  burrowing  cra\\^shcs  abound,  their  holes  will  be 
found — some  of  them  capped  over  with  mud  chimneys  since 
the  drought  began.  We  can  test  the  dej^th  to  wliich  the 
water-level  in  the  soil  lias  descended  by  probing  the  craw- 
fish holes  with  a  stick. 

Where  we  lose  the  channel  of  the  brook, 
as  we  pass  out  into  a  small  grassy  flood-plain, 
we  find  that  though  there  is  no  water  in  sight, 
there  is  moisture  in  the  soil.  Such  soil-gather- 
ing tilings  as  the  fowl-meadow-grass  (fig.  135) 
are  making  the  most  of  the  situation;  they  are 
covering  the  plain  with  a  tangle  of  stems  that 
will  strain  out  of  subsequent  floods  their  burden 
of  silt  and  trash.  Thus  will  the  plain  be  built 
a  little  higher;  another  la>'cr  will  be  added  to 
form  rich  moisture -holding  soil. 

By  the  side  of  the  brook  gone  dry,  nature 
sets  us  exami)les  in  the  conservation  of 
moisture.  There  we  may  find  plants  bunied 
to  death  with  the  drouth;  otlicrs  of  the  same 
species  wilted  sadly,  but  still  alive;  and  others, 
green  and  flourishing.  The  dilTcrences  are 
mainly  due  to  the  disposition  of  the  soil  about 
their  roots;  soil  hard  and  bare  in  the  first  case, 
and  well  adapted  to  facilitate  loss  of  water; 
and  loose  soil  well  co\-ercd  from  the  sun  in 
the  last  case,  and  full  of  rescr^'e  moisture. 

Somewhere,  along  our  brook,  we  may  come  upon  a  reedy 
swale  now  dry  enough  to  walk  across,  but  never  dry  enough 
for  field-crops,  and  therefore  left  unmolested  by  the  plow. 
It  is  apt  to  be  filled  with  sedges  and  marsh  fenis,  with  a 
few  cat-tails  in  the  wettest  spots,  and  to  have  round  alnjut, 
a  fringe  of  moisture -loving  composites  such  as  boncsct,  joc- 
pye  weed,  swamp-milkweed,  goldenrod  and  New  England 


Fig.  136.  Fruit- 
ing panicle  of 
the  fowl-mead- 
ow-grass. 


THE  LITTLE  BROOK  GONE  DRY  311 

aster.  Such  a  meadow  glade  is  sure  to  be  the  home  of  many 
little  rodents,  such  as  meadowmice  and  shrews.  If  we  look 
among  the  grass  about  the  flower-clumps,  we  will  find  their 
shallow  nmways  at  the  surface  of  the  grotmd. 

Study  46.    A  Brook  Gone  Dry 

This  is  a  study  for  a  dry  season  in  midsummer.  The  brook 
chosen  for  it  should  be  flowing  through  water-holding  soils, 
and  it  should  be  one  that  is  ordinarily  a  ''living"  brook,  but 
that  has  succumbed  to  the  drouth. 

The  program  of  w^ork  will  consist  of  a  survey  of  a  portion 
of  the  brook-bed  and  its  borders,  of  sufficient  extent  to  in- 
clude typical  portions,  such  as  riffles  and  pools  and  miniature 
flood-plains.  Brookside  plants  are  to  be  observed,  as  well  as 
all  signs  of  animal  life;  also  the  m^ore  obvious  relations  of  the 
water  supply  and  the  brook  to  different  levels  of  adjacent 
fields.  Observe  what  kinds  of  plants  have  succumbed  to  the 
drouth  and  where  situated. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1 .  A  sketch-map  of  the  portion  of  the  brookside  studied, 
showing  location  of  pools,  riffles,  rock  ledges,  flood-plains, 
leaf -drifts,  etc.,  and  showing  also  the  principal  natural  plant 
formations  by  the  brookside. 

2.  Lists  of  plants  and  animals  found  in  the  more  typical 
situations,  with  notes  on  their  condition  as  affected  by  the 
drouth.  List  all  plants  foimd  in  the  brook-bed,  whether 
they  belong  there  or  whether  they  be  chance  seedlings  of 
land  plants  springing  up  in  imsuitable  places. 


XLVII.     SWIMMING  HOLES 

"IIV  tied  hae  paidl't  i'  the  burn 
From  inoruiu'  sun  till  dine.'' 

— Burns  (Auld  Lang  Syne). 

Of  all  elemental  tastes,  the  liking  for  dal^bling  in  water  is, 
perhaps,  the  most  widespread.  Man  and  beast  and  bird, 
with  few  exce])tions,  love  the  waterside.  They  drink,  they 
bathe,  they  pla}'  there.  The  water  is  cooling  and  refreshing. 
It  yields  cleanliness,  and  comfort,  and  pleasant  recrea- 
tion. 

Swimming  is  one  of  the  most  widespread  accomplishments 
in  the  animal  world,  even  among  terrestrial  mammals. 
Most  of  them  swim  instinctively,  just  as  they  eat  or  breathe. 
Man  is  the  only  one  that  acquires  the  art  by  practice.  For 
nearlv  all  others,  swimming  is  an  inherited  ancestral  habit, 
that  probably  harks  back  to  a  remote  age;  for  life  began 
in  the  water,  and  the  more  primitive  members  of  all  the 
great  groups  of  animals  are  aquatic  still. 

Certain  of  our  wild  semi-aquatic  mammals,  like  the  otter 
and  the  mink,  swim  and  dive  and  play  in  the  water  with  an 
ease  and  a  grace  and  an  abandon  that  are  delightful.  Their 
agility  almost  equals  that  of  fishes.  Young  otters  are  re- 
ported to  chase  each  other  down  slides  in  the  banks,  like 
boys  in  a  swimming  hole.  But  our  domesticated  beasts 
rarely  swim  voluntarily.  They  prefer  merely  to  dabble  in 
the  edge  of  the  water,  enjo>-ing  its  coolness  and  a  certain 
protection  it  affords  from  flies.  Hogs  wallow  and  smear 
themselves  with  mud.  The  American  bison  did  likewise. 
Cows  stand  in  the  water  in  fl}'-time,  with  their  thin-sknnned 
under  parts  immersed,  and  their  tails  flinging  spray  over 
their  backs.  Tliis  sort  of  installment  shower-bath  does  good 
in  two  ways.     When  it  wets  the  wmgs  of  flics,  it  puts  them 

312 


SWIMMING  HOLES 


313 


temporarily  out  of  commission;   and  when  the  water  evap- 
orates, its  effect  is  cooHng  on  the  cow's  skin. 

The  song-birds,  also,  have  their  bathing  places.  We 
walk  up  a  small  rivulet  on  a  hot  day,  and  cautiously  approach 
its  pools,  and  there  we  find  the  robins  and  the  sparrows 
and  other  birds  at  their  aquatic  sports.  Standing  singly  or 
by  twos  and  threes  in  the  shoal  water,  they  create  a  great 
shower  with  the  flutter  of  their  wings.  And  this  they  do  at 
great  personal  risk;    for  cats  and  other  enemies  may  be 

lurking  in  the  shrubbcr\' 
that  grows  beside  the 
pools .  One  of  the  ways 
to  conserve  the  birds 
is  to  provide  them  with 
safe  water  fountains. 

Man  is  imitative  far 
beyond  every  other 
creature,  and  especially 
so  in  youth.  It  is 
natural,  therefore,  that 
he  should  enter  the 
water  and  try  to  do 
there,  even  though  clumsily,  what  he  sees  other  creatures 
doing.  Once  in  the  new  medium,  and  used  to  its  coolness 
and  its  buoyancy,  the  boy  begins  to  try  the  tricks  of  the 
swimming-things  about  him.  The  dog  swims  in  one  way, 
and  he  imitates  that.  The  frog  swims  in  another  way,  and 
he  imitates  that.  And  then  he  begins  to  invent  new  ways 
of  his  own. 

The  greatest  social  center  in  Boyville  is  the  swimming 
hole.  Its  popularity  is  undoubted.  Its  resources  are  in- 
exhaustible. It  is  democratic  beyond  most  of  our  institu- 
tions. It  isn't  much  of  a  place  to  look  at,  as  a  rule — just  a 
bit  of  open  water,  a  pond,  or  a  pool  in  the  creek,  with  broad 


Fig.  137.     A  floating  birds'  bath  on  a  pond:  out 
of  the  way  of  cats. 


314 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THIC  FARM 


shoals  where  beginners  may  Icani,  and  a  deej)  hole  for  the 
skillful  to  plunge  in,  and  a  clean  bank  on  wliich  to  come  out 

and  dress.     The  only 

If 


'■A>^; 


Fii;.  Lib.     Poor  modi-rn  alternatives. 


necessary  artificial 
eciuii^ment  is  a  spring 
board,  to  aid  in  making 
spectacular  plunges. 
And  if  it  have,  slop- 
ing into  the  water,  a  soft  clay  bank  down  wliich  bare  feet 
may  slide,  or  a  black  stick}-  mud,  suitable  for  bodily 
decorations,  it  is  especially  well  endowed  by  nature. 
Where  else  on  earth  is  there  so  simple  an  equipment  capable 
of  fostering  so  much  luialloycd  pleasure,  or  of  so  eflectively 
putting  "every  care  beyond  recall?" 

There  is  so  much  to  learn  at  the  swimming  hole !  Floating, 
and  diving,  and  ducking,  and  staying  under,  and  springbroad 
plunges,  and  swimming  in  all  positions  and  with  all  the 
strokes ;  and  every  new  feat  mastered  and  well  and  publicly 
performed,  adds  so  to  one's  standing  and  respectability  and 
influence  in  the  swimming-hole  community — it  must  be 
real  education! 


M 


^^^,  zBx, 


I"iG.  l.J'J.     "Every  care  beyond  recall"' 


SWIMMING  HOLES  315 

Study  47.     Swimming  Holes 

This  is  a  study  of  the  common  propensity  of  land  animals 
toward  water  sports  and  pastimes.  A  hot  day  should  be 
selected,  and  places  chosen  where  animals  naturally  gather 
by  the  waterside.  The  creatures  most  available  for  observa- 
tion will  probably  be  small  boys,  dogs,  pigs,  cows,  and  birds. 
If  any  one  does  not  know  where  the  swimming  holes  are,  let 
him  ask  the  first  small  boy  of  the  neighborhood  encountered. 
To  locate  the  watering-places  of  farm  animals,  let  him  ask 
the  stockman.  To  locate  the  best  bird  baths,  let  him  ask 
some  local  ornithologist;  or,  better,  let  him  put  up  his  own 
basin  for  the  benefit  of  the  birds  in  some  place  convenient 
for  observation  and  away  from  danger  and  alarms  and  keep 
it  supplied  with  fresh  water;  the  birds  will  come  and  use  it, 
without  resenting  observation.  Times  for  making  observa- 
tions of  the  various  sorts  suggested  should  be  so  chosen  as  to 
avoid  school-time  and  mealtime  of  the  boys,  milking  time  for 
the  cows,  and  feeding  time  and  sleeping  time  for  all  the  others. 

The  program  of  work  for  this  study  wall  have  to  be  shaped 
in  accordance  with  the  local  opportunities  offered;  it  is  left 
wholly  to  the  instructor.  Better  than  a  single  session's  obser- 
vations on  the  aquatic  habits  of  a  variety  of  animals,  may  be  a 
record  for  a  week  of  brief  daily  observations  at  one  batliing 
place  (as  for  example,  at  a  bird-foimtain),  notes  being  kept 
on  the  numbers  and  kinds  of  participants  and  the  nature  of 
their  aquatic  sports. 

The  record  of  this  study  will  vary  with  the  subjects  selected 
and  the  opportunities  for  observation.  It  should  narrate 
the  full  procedure  of  the  animals  studied  when  they  are 
taking  a  bath,  whether  in  mud  or  water.  It  should  include 
an  accoimt  of  all  the  aquatic  activities  of  the  animals  ob- 
served, evidences  of  benefit  or  of  pleasure  deri\'cd  therefrom, 
and  the  location  and  character  of  the  aquatic  situations 
chosen  by  each  species  for  its  pastime. 


XLVIIL     WINDING    ROADS 

"0,  dCiLH  the  valley  do  they  go,  where  all  is  sr.ceet  and  still, 
To  gently  wind  and  turn  about  and  hide  behind  the  hill. 
They  are  not  as  the  city's  streets;  they  have  no  clash  and  roar 
But  high  and  wide  above  them  do  the  songbirds  wheel  and  soar; 
A  nd  bordering  their  sides  are  vines,  that  spill  their  wealth  of  bloom 
Through  which  the  sunshine  spatters  like  jewels  in  the  gloom. 
Where  do  they  go?    the  little  roads  that  find  the  hidden  ways, 
As  memories  that  ramble  down  through  tnisty  yesterdays." 

— Wilbur  D.  Nesbit  {The  Winding  Roads). 

This  is  our  last  field  trip  together.  Let  us  betake  ourselves 
to  some  little  ■s\dnding  roadway  that  has  escaped  the  "march 
of  progress."  No  fine  highway  for  us  today;  no  boulevard, 
graded  like  a  speedway,  raw  in  its  newness,  full  of  dust  and 
din,  or  stinking  with  oil.  No,  let  it  be  a  little  unimproved 
roadway  winding  among  the  hills;  a  roadway  %vith  a  past, 
and  with  no  concern  about  the  future,  settled,  peaceful, 
redolent  with  the  fragrance  of  bordering  woods  and  fields; 
a  roadway  circling  the  hills  and  not  demanding  their  removal ; 
a  roadway  "with  the  scars  of  its  ancient  struggle  for  existence 
all  healed;  its  embankments  hidden  by  graceful  drapery  of 
verdure  let  down  over  them  from  the  bordering  woods. 
And,  if  it  be  a  dusty  roadway,  may  the  dust  be  clean  and  cool, 
dappled  with  the  shadows  of  pleasant  trees  or  pitted  with  the 
fall  of  the  great  drops  of  the  smiimer  rain,  or  printed  with 
the  feet  of  men  or  animals,  or  with  the  wheels  of  lazy 
vehicles. 

If  such  it  be,  we  shall  see  few  people  passing,  but  we  may 
see  other  inhabitants :  for  the  bushes  by  such  a  roadside  are 
full  of  birds,  and  rabbits  and  gophers  sit  nibbling  at  the  way- 
side clovers.  The  signs  of  other  passers-by  will  not  be  lack- 
ing. A  sinuous  trail  through  the  dust  may  show  where  a 
garter  snake  crossed  the  road;  the  streaks  radiating  from  a 
"chuck-hole"  in  a  rut  may  show  where  a  grouse  took  a  dust- 

316 


WINDING  ROADS  317 

bath.     Tracks  of  crows  and  squirrels  on  the  dust  or  on  the 
mud  after  a  rain  may  tell  of  their  coming  and  going. 

But  if  there  be  neither  man  nor  beast  nor  bird  in  evidence, 
there  are  many  other  things  that  make  the  roadside  interest- 
ing, and  not  the  least  of  these  is  the  succession  of  pictures  that 
every  turn  discloses. 

Here  we  pass  a  few  panels  of  old  fence  draped  with  Virginia 
creeper,  and  backed  up  by  spreading  ha^^^homs  and  sprightly 
chokecherries.  The  clay  bank  at  its  foot  is  overspread  with 
a  mixed  carpet  of  grasses  and  mosses  and  cinquefoil  and 
mouse-ear.  A  long  purple  raspberry  cane  reaches  through 
the  panel,  and  near  it  are  a  coarse  pink-topped  teasel  and  a 
blue  aster.  Nobody  planted  these  so:  nobody  figured  out 
their  times  and  seasons,  their  hannonies  of  color  and  form, 
their  requirements  of  light  and  moisture.  They  slipped  in 
unawares,  each  finding  its  own  place,  and  proceeded  to  cover 
a  clay  bank  and  a  bare  fence  with  loveliness.  Yonder,  where 
a  carelessly  set  fire  has  laid  bare  a  little  strip,  one  may  see  by 
the  contrasting  ugliness  what  beauty  they  have  wTought. 

On  the  other  side  are  trees.  Their  boughs  are  thick  and 
bushy,  and  heavy  with  leafage.  Long  years  have  passed 
since  the  road  was  cut  through,  gi^' ing  full  exposure  to  the  sun, 
and  the  trees  have  robed  themselves  with  hea\y  foliage 
masses  coming  down  to  the  ground.  They  are  full-fledged. 
Ahead,  we  see  their  gracefully  rounded  outlines  and  their 
colors,  and  near  at  hand  the  dainty  sculpturings  and  textures 
of  their  leaves  come  into  view.  Yonder  is  a  dark,  shadowy 
glade  with  a  canopy  of  overarching  birch  tops  abo\'e,  and 
with  slender  horizontal  sprays  of  leaves  of  maple  extended 
beneath  as  though  they  were  floating  in  the  air.  Below  we' 
catch  a  gleam  from  the  surface  of  a  dark  pool. 

Now  we  come  to  a  steeply  rising  banlc,  which  doubtless  was 
once  bare — ^long  since,  when  graders  had  finished  their  work. 
But  nature  had  some  wild  roses  and  asters  growing  on  the 


3i8  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

siunniit,  and  these  .cjew  and  spilled  over  and  poured  do\\Ti  the 
slope  to  the  very  roadside,  where  they  remain  to  this  day  in 
chamiing  confusion.  And  year  after  year  the  bank  is  flecked 
with  the  pink  of  the  roses  in  siunmer  and  dappled  with  the 
blue  of  the  asters  in  autiunn. 

We  ])ass  under  a  KT*eat  oak  that  stretches  its  lonp:  horizontal 
boughs  across  our  way,  holding  out  flat  canopies  of  leaves, 
whose  shadows  run  waveringly  over  the  dust  of  the  road. 
We  round  the  top  of  the  little  hill,  where  the  view  opens  out 
across  a  valley  with  a  strip  of  sparkling  water.  We  descend  a 
gentle  slope  and  come  upon  a  low-lying  nieadow,  bordered 
with  great  masses  of  golden-rod  and  elder.  We  cross  a 
bridge,  ahnost  without  seeing  it;  for  it  is  the  sort  of  bridge 
ovir  fathers  builded,  a  bridge  of  gray  stone  taken  from  tlie  hill- 
side ledge :  a  broad  and  solid  bridge  built  to  stand  while  the 
rill  nms  beneath  it.  The  rill  is  hidden  by  herbage,  but  we 
hear  its  gurgling.  AAHiat  was  once  a  rubbish-heap  below,  is 
now  a  blossomy  mass  of  verdure,  with  virgin 's-bower  and 
morning-glories  running  riot  over  it.  Across  the  meadow  lie 
the  shadows  of  tree-forms  cast  from  the  hill  behind  us,  and 
beyond  the  meadow  rises  a  steep  tree-clad  slope,  with  the 
tessellated  sprays  of  beech  and  the  rounded  crowns  of  the 
maple  mingled  and  rising  lilce  billows  to  the  ridge.  There,  a 
few  white  pines  stand  out  like  sentinels.  While  we  are  look- 
ing at  the  spreading  hcrl^s  beneath  the  trees,  our  road  turns 
again  to  pass  around  the  hill. 

So,  it  leads  us  on,  with  its  promises  of  ever-new  and  cliann- 
ing  pictures.  Its  vistas,  disclosed  at  ever>^  turn,  are  not 
more  satisfying  than  are  its  sweet  miniatures,  seen  near  at 
hand.  These  are  the  ripe  results  of  many  years  of  nature's 
handiwork.  Every  nook  and  comer  is  planted  with  verdure 
of  incomparable  design. 

This  is  not  a  road  to  race  over,  seeing  nothing.  No;  it 
must  be  travelled  slowly,  anrl  a  bit  reverently,  if  one  would 


WINDING  ROADS  319 

see  and  know.  Nature  never  rewards  impatience.  So  may 
we  go  serenely,  expectantly,  around  the  next  bend.  So  may 
we  ever  go  when  seeking  the  true  pleasures  of  life. 

And  when  a  little  winding  road  shall,  some  day,  bring  us 
to  the  town  where  we  must  dwell,  happy  shall  we  be  if  the 
simple  elements  of  the  wild  roadside  loveliness  are  cherished 
there;  if  the  plants  by  the  way  grow  lush  and  fine;  if  the 
roadside  greenery  drops  dovm  gently  to  the  borders  of  the 
street ;  if  the  little  side-paths  lead  into  pleasant  places,  and  the 
shadows  that  lie  across  the  grass  seem  to  invite  one  to  enter 
and  rest;  if  simny  openings  are  filled  with  flowers,  and 
shadowy  retreats,  with  soft  filmy  sprays  of  leaves;  if  bare 
walls  are  banked  with  foliage,  or  festooned  with  the  graceful 
drapery  of  vines;  thrice  happy,  if  some  of  the  little  wild 
things,  nature's  exquisite  little  tender  things,  planted  and 
cared  for  by  the  wayside  in  places  suited  to  them,  tell  us  we 
have  for  neighbors  some  gentle  souls  who  care  for  things  as 
God  made  them. 

Study  48.    A  Winding  Country  Road 

The  program  of  work  for  this  study  will  consist  of  a  walk 
along  a  short  stretch  of  an  old  rural  roadway,  preferably 
among  wooded  hills,  seeking  out  the  natural  beauties  of  the 
roadside.  A  road  of  long  standing,  little  mowed  or  graded, 
should  be  chosen.  A  map  of  the  portion  to  be  examined  may 
be  provided. 

Views,  such  as  the  following  may  be  located : 
An  open  vista  along  the  roadway  itself. 
A  forest  aisle  along  the  roadway  itself. 

3.  An  inviting  side  path  or  branch  road. 

4.  A  shadowy  glade. 

5.  A  distant  display  of  tufted  foliage  on  a  steeply- rising 
wooded  slope. 


320  NATURAL  HISTORY  oF  Till-    FARM 

6.  A  near-by  dis]:)Uiy  of  leaf -cover,  of  elegant  design. 

7 .  A  display  of  wild  flowers. 

The  record  of  this  study  may  consist  of: 

1.  Tlie  map  above  mentioned,  with  arrows  marked  upon 
it  indicating  such  views  as  above  noted. 

2.  Brief  descriptive  list  of  them,  statriig  for  cacli. 

(a)  What  elements  of  the  view  most  appeal  to  \-ou  as 
being  beautiful. 

(b)  What  kinds  of  wild  things  nature  has  chiefly  used  to 
make  it  so. 


"The  little  cares  that  fretted  me, 

I  lost  them  yesterday 
Among  the  fields  above  the  sea 

Among  the  winds  at  play 
Among  the  lowing  of  the  herds 

The  rustling  of  the  trees 
Among  the  singing  of  the  1  )irds, 

The  humming  of  the  1  »ees. 

"The  foolish  fears  of  what  may  happen 

I  cast  them  all  away 
Among  the  clover-scented  grass, 

Among  the  new  mown  hay. 
Among  the  husking  of  the  com 

Where  drowsy  poppies  nod 
Where  ill  thoughts  die  and  gocKl  are  bom 

Out  in  the  fields  with  God. 

— Elizabeth  Harntt  BrowninR 


Individual  Exercises  for  the  Summer  Term 

Five  studies  follow,  that,  like  those  for  the  fall  and  spring 
terms  (pages  126  and  22S  et  seq.),  are  intended  to  be  made 
by  the  student  working  alone  and  at  his  own  convenience. 
Four  of  them  call  for  weekly  observations  extending  o\cv 
the  entire  term;  but  these  are  such  observations  as  can  be 
made  on  walks  for  health  and  pleasure  with  no  great 
expenditure  of  time. 

Optional  Study  11.     A  Grass  Calendar 

The  great  grass  family  is  one  with  which  we  ought  to  be 
acquainted,  considering  the  importance  of  the  role  it  plays. 
It  furnishes  a  principal  part  of  the  food  supply  of  man  and 
beast.  Of  the  thousands  of  species  of  grasses  in  the  world, 
we  know  a  few  as  cereals  (wheat,  com,  oats,  barley,  etc.),  a 
few  as  pasture  grasses,  a  few  as  noxious  weeds,  and  a  few 
as  ornamental  g?:asses. 

There  are  other  grasses,  relatives  of  those  we  cultivate, 
growing  wild  in  every  locality.  There  are  grasses  for  every 
situation,  wet  or  dry,  in  sun  or  in  shade;  and  they  are  of 
great  diversity  of  form  and  habit,  and  of  great  beauty  and 
interest. 

The  object  of  this  study  is  to  get  on  speaking  temis  with 
a  dozen  or  more  of  the  local  grasses,  wild  or  cultivated,  and 
to  observe  their  behavior  through  the  summer  season. 
Growing  patches  of  several  kinds  should  be  located  near  at 
hand,  where  they  may  be  visited  at  least  once  a  week  with- 
out too  great  expenditure  of  time,  and  where  they  are  most 
likely  to  remain  uncut.  The  list  should  include  one  or  t^\o 
of  the  thin  straggling  grasses  that  grow  in  the  thickets,  and 
one  or  two  of  the  annual  species  that  grow  as  weeds  in  fields 


1,22  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

and  gardens;  also,  if  convenient,  one  or  two  water-grasses, 
such  as  cut-grass,  rnanna-grass  or  reed.  Weekly  observa- 
tions should  be  made  through  the  term  on  the  activities  of 
the  whole  plant — what  it  is  doing  in  leaf  or  stem  or  flower  or 
fruit  production;  what  it  is  doing  below  ground  in  the 
\\  ay  of  production  of  stools  or  oflsets;  when  starting  growi^h 
or  second  growth;  when  distributing  seeds,  etc. 

For  record,  these  observations  may  be  entered  in  the 
columns  of  a  cross-ruled  table,  the  left-hand  column  being 
reserved  for  the  names  of  the  grasses,  and  dates  being  written 
at  the  top  of  the  other  columns  in  proper  order.  Names  of 
the  grasses,  if  needed,  will  be  supplied  by  the  instructor 
when  a  flowering  or  fruiting  specimen  is  furnished  for 
identification.  Following  the  name  of  each  kind  of  grass, 
there  should  be  written,  in  the  proper  date  cohunns,  the 
obser^'-ations  made  upon  it.  Footnotes  may  include  any 
obser\^ations  for  which  there  is  not  room  in  the  table. 

Optional  Study  12.    A  Calendar  of  Summer  Wild  Flowers 

This  is  a  continuation,  through  the  smnmer  season,  of  the 
observations  on  spring  flowers,  ovitlined  in  Optional  Study  8 
on  page  229,  and  may  follow  the  plan  there  outlined.  For 
the  second  table-heading,  "Relation  to  leaf -unfolding," 
substitute:  "Fonn  and  size  of  flower-cluster  (diagram, 
and  give  measurements)". 


INDIVIDUAL  EXERCISES  FOR  SUMMER  TERM       323 

Optional  Study  13.     A  Calendar  of  Bird-nesting 

Nothing  is  more  delightful  to  observe  than  the  skill  with 
v/hich  birds  hide  £.nd  build  their  nests.  A  few,  like  those  of 
the  Baltimore  oriole,  are  htmg  out  in  plain  view,  but  most  of 
them  are  so  well  hidden  that  we  can  find  them  only  by  most 
careful  and  unobtrusive  watcliing  of  the  coming  and  going 
of  the  parent  birds. 

This  is  a  study  for  those  who  know  how  to  find  the  nests, 
and  who  know  how  to  observe  them  without  causing  the 
parent  birds  to  desert  them.  It  would  better  be  under- 
taken by  those  who  have  had  some  experience,  for  finding 
the  nests  will  require  too  much  time  on  the  part  of  a  beginner. 

For  record,  the  observations  on  bird-nesting  may  be  writ- 
ten in  the  columns  of  a  cross-ruled  table,  in  which  the  first 
column  is  reserved  for  bird  names,  and  the  other  coltmins 
are  reserved  each  for  the  observations  of  one  period,  with  the 
date  written  at  the  top.  After  the  name  of  each  bird  there 
should  be  written,  under  proper  date,  a  brief  record  of  the 
building  operations  in  which  the  species  is  engaged,  as 
searching  for  sites,  laying  foundations,  building  walls,  inter- 
weaving moss  or  feathers,  completing  lining,  etc.  Also 
subsequent  nesting  phenomena,  such  as:  first  egg,  last 
egg,  hatching,  feeding,  leaving  nest,  etc.  Ample  footnotes 
may  contain  data  for  which  there  is  not  room  in  the  table. 

Another  form  of  calendar,  that  may  oftentimes  be  pre- 
ferable where  one  species  of  bird,  favorable  for  obscr^'-ation, 
is  abtmdant,  may  be  made  up  of  the  observations  on  pairs 
of  birds  of  a  single  species;  the  left-hand  coliunn  of  the  table 
for  record  mil  then  be  reserved  for  the  location  of  the  several 
nests. 


324 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Optional  Study  14.     Best  Crops  on  the  Farm 

The  object  of  this  study  is  to  eneourage  personal  observa- 
tions on  the  growth  of  the  products  of  the  fields.  A  dozen 
or  more  such  cultivated  crops  as  com,  wheat,  oats,  hay, 
clover,  potatoes,  millet,  apples,  buclavheat,  turnips,  etc.,  are 
to  be  severally  examined  in  all  the  fields  of  the  fann,  and  the 
best  found  are  to  be  set  dowTi  for  record  in  the  columns  of 
a  table  of  the  fonn  of  that  shown  on  pages  130  and  131, 
having  such  headings  as  the  following : 

Name  of  crop. 

Location  (in  what  field  or  portion  of  same). 

Kind  of  soil. 

Preparation  of  soil  (information  may  be  obtained  from 
farm  records). 

Condition  (of  crop  at  the  conclusion  of  this  study). 

Method  of  planting  (if  not  obserA'cd,  see  farm  records) . 

Subsequent  treatment  (if  not  observed,  see  fann  records). 

Yield  (actual  or  estimated;  specify  which). 


LXDIVIDUAL  EXERCISES  FOR  SUMMER  TERM       325 


Optional  Study  15.     A  Com  Record 

Com  is  King ! 

This  beautiful  plant,  that  our  forefathers,  when  thc}'  first 
came  to  America,  found  growing  in  little  patches  about  the 
camps  of  the  red  men,  has  become  our  great  staple.  The 
following  study  of  its  natural  history  may  be  made  in  any 
convenient  cornfield.  It  calls  for  careftd  obser\^ations  at 
least  once  a  week  (oftener  in  flowering  time)  on  germination, 
leaf -unfolding,  stooling,  prop-root  fomiation,  tasseling, 
* 'shooting"  of  ears,  responses  to  drouth,  or  to  wind,  ripening, 
etc. ;  in  short,  on  all  phases  of  the  behavior  of  the  plant. 

The  record  may  be  in  the  form  of  a  diary  with  weekly  (or 
more  frequent)  entries  covering: 

temperature,    rainfall,    windstorms, 
and  other  relevant  weather  condi- 
tions, 
condition  of  soil  as  to  tilth,  weeds, 

etc. 
tillage. 

average  height  at  each  date  of  record, 
details  of  its  development  and  be- 
havior, 
birds,   animals,   insects,   ftmgi,   etc., 
found  causing  injury. 


I. 


Physical  factors 
of  environment 


2.     Growth 


3.     Enemies 


Outdoor  Equipment 

It  is  a  part  of  the  public  duty  of  those  who  know  the  vaUie 
of  our  natural  endowment  to  protect  and  preserve  some 
portion  of  it  wherever  possible,  and  to  put  it  to  educational 
use.  We,  as  a  people,  have  had  the  American  soil  in  our 
keeping  for  only  a  few  generations;  and  yet  we  have  well 
nigh  extinguished  its  native  life  over  large  areas.  It  is  well 
to  have  fields  and  stock-pens,  for  we  must  be  fed  and  clothed: 
but,  it  is  well,  also,  to  have  something  to  show  of  the  richness 
and  resourcefulness  of  nature,  for  we  must  be  educated. 

Coming  generations  will  need  the  wild  things.  Without 
seeing  them,  they  will  never  understand  the  history  of  their 
own  country.  They  will  never  know  what  things  confronted 
their  forefathers  to  baffle  them :  what  things  gave  them  succor 
and  enabled  them  to  live  here  and  establish  a  new  nation. 
They  will  want  to  know  what  the  native  life  of  their  native 
land  was  like. 

There  is  plenty  of  wild  life  of  many  sorts  in  America  still, 
but  it  is  getting  farther  and  farther  from  the  haunts  of  men 
and  lost  to  its  former  use.  The  attention  of  youth  is  occupied 
more  and  more  with  artificialities.  The  wild  places  near  at 
hand  are  made  unclean,  and  then  are  shunned.  Our  necessary 
"improvements"  are  made  with  much  unnecessary  waste 
and  heedless  despoiling  of  the  beauties  of  nature. 

This  is  largely  due  to  ignorance.  That  anything  wild  is 
worth  saving  has  hardly  occurred  to  the  average  citizen; 
that  anything  wild  may  be  saved  without  hindering  improve- 
ments is  an  idea  foreign  to  his  experience.  For  he  has  been 
filled  with  zeal  to  make  the  w^orld  over;  to  cut  down  all  the 
woods  and  drain  all  the  bogs,  and  fill  all  the  ravines  with 
rubbish;  to  reduce  it  all  to  a  neat  pattern  of  cement  sidewalks, 
encircling  lawns  and  cabbage  patches. 

326 


OUTDOOR  EQUIPMENT  327 

In  the  cities  where  the  pressure  for  room  has  been  greatest 
and  the  destruction  of  native  wild  life  completest,  men  have 
cried  out  for  nature  and  for  green  things  growing,  and  parks 
have  been  made.  But  the  average  park  is  a  stretch  of  grass 
to  be  kept  off  from,  and  the  best  of  parks  are  good  and  whole- 
some and  inspiring  and  informing  in  proportion  as  they  repro- 
duce the  wildwood. 

So,  before  the  last  bits  of  wildwood  near  us  have  been 
destroyed,  it  is  time  to  think  of  preserving  some  of  them  for 
the  sake  of  those  who  shall  come  after  us.  This  was  not 
necessary  in  the  days  of  the  pioneer,  but  with  rising  land 
values  and  more  intensive  agriculture,  the  extermination  of 
the  wild  life  is  proceeding  at  an  ever  accelerating  rate.  The 
rich  life  of  the  Illinois  prairies  is  a  memory.  The  streams  in 
all  our  settled  parts*  have  been  made  barren  and  unclean. 
The  swamps — nature's  own  sanctuaries — are  being  drained. 
In  the  better  agricultural  areas  of  America,  we  have  almost 
reached  that  day  of  desolation  when  the  possession  of  a 
natural  grove,  or  of  a  wild-flower  preserve,  however  small,  is 
enough  to  give  a  farm  distinction — to  mark  it  as  a  home  of 
culture. 

Three  things  a  naturalist  should  do  for  the  public  good. 
He  should  endeavor:  (1)  to  prevent  unnecessary  and  ill- 
considered  destruction  of  natural  beauty  ever>^vhcre:  (2) 
to  aid  nature  in  the  restoration  of  beauty  to  waste  places: 
(3)  to  make  the  bits  of  nature  near  at  hand  more  serviceable 
in  the  education  of  the  public. 

Saving  the  remnant.  It  will  not  do  for  those  who  best 
know  the  esthetic  and  educational  values  of  wild  life  to 
merely  sit  back  lamenting  when  its  extinction  is  threatened. 
When  natural  beauty  spots  are  about  to  be  ravai^ed  and 
stocked  with  artificial  gewgaws;  when  the  public  roadsides 
are  to  be  shorn  of  their  copses  of  flowering  shrubbery, 
only  to  be  made  into  weed  patches;  when  flower  decked 


328  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

ravines  arc  to  be  turiK'<l  iiilo  rat-hatcheries  by  fiUinj;  them 
with  garbage  and  rubbish ;  when  sparkhng  streams  are  to  be 
fouled  with  stinking  slops  and  oils  by  the  slovenliness  of 
some  streamsidc  factor}- ;  when  public  groves  are  to  be  cleared 
without  any  intelligent  supervision,  merely  to  provide  work 
for  a  public  labor-gang  in  the  slack  season :- whenever 
these  or  any  other  such  things,  as  are  occuring  daily  all  over 
the  land,  are  about  to  be  committed,  it  is  the  duty  of  the 
naturalist  to  speak  out  in  protest.  He  should  endeavor  to 
enlist  the  enlightened  public  sentiment  of  his  community, 
to  have  the  esthetic  and  educational  values  of  such  places 
considered,  ere  they  are  destroyed.  They  are  sure  to  be  under- 
valued because  they  have  cost  the  public  nothing.  In  this 
they  are  like  all  true  gifts  of  heaven. 

In  city  communities,  there  are  Audubon  societies,  and 
wildflower  preservation  societies,  and  civic  improvement 
societies,  and  conser\^ation  societies,  etc.,  that  include  in 
their  membership  the  best  brains  and  culture  of  the  place; 
and  the  aid  of  such  organizations  is  easily  enlisted  in  such  a 
cause.  In  any  community  there  are  those  that  love  the  beauty 
and  freshness  of  unspoiled  nature,  and  who  vaW  gladly  use 
their  influence  toward  saving  something  for  future  enjoy- 
ment. The  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  see  that  those  admin- 
istering the  public  works  in  question  are  informed  of  the 
value  of  the  wild  things  about  to  be  destroyed.  Often,  it 
is  necessary  that  they  be  informed  of  the  very  existence  of 
such  things.   Next  there  is  need  of  eternal  vigilance. 

Improving  waste  places.  When  necessary  public  works, 
however  destructive  of  natural  scenery,  have  been  completed, 
then  a  little  careful  forethought  for  the  use  of  the  things  , 
nature  freely  ofTers,  will  make  the  place  beautiful  again. 
The  naturalist  should  assist  in  planning  their  betterment. 
He  of  all  people,  should  know  what  things  are  most  available, 
and  best  suited  to  every  use  and  situation. 


OUTDOOR  EQUIPMENT  329 

Suppose  a  bridge  is  to  be  built.  Everybody  knows  that 
an  old  bridge,  settled  in  the  midst  of  clumps  of  greenery  and 
spanning  a  clear  stream  makes  a  beautiful  picture.  A  new 
bridge  looks  otherwise:  it  rises  starkly  from  a  sea  of  mud, 
joins  two  new-born  dump  heaps.  For,  when  a  bridge  is  built, 
usually  just  enough  money  is  appropriated  to  do  the  necess- 
ary excavating,  to  dispose  of  the  dirt  in  the  easiest  way  and 
to  put  up  the  bridge  itself:  nothing  is  available  for  restoring 
beauty  to  the  place.  What  are  the  things  needed  for  this? 
Willows  by  the  waterside :  filmy  pale  green  small-lea\'ed  wild 
willows,  to  nestle  in  soft  masses  by  the  abutments :  elms  and 
sycamores  to  cover  the  rising  slopes;  or  vines, if  the  dump  be 
of  broken  stone :  swamp  iris  or  water  shamrock  to  cover  the 
bare  mud— things  that  do  not  cost  a  cent  for  they  may  be 
found  in  nature's  wild  nurseries ;  things  that  will  grow  with- 
out any  coddling,  that  need  only  proper  planting— in  short 
the  things  that  grow  wild  in  such  places.  These  will  restore 
the  beauty  of  the  place  in  the  minimum  of  time,  and  with 
the  least  expense.  In  the  course  of  years,  nature,  if  not 
prevented,  will  restore  these  things  herself:  but  the  effect 
will  be  better,  and  the  desired  results  will  be  attained  much 
more  quickly  for  a  little  intelligent  aid. 

So,  roadsides,  that  are  considered  "finished"  when  a 
roadbed  is  secured,  may  be  refurnished :  level  filled  lands  may 
be  made  fresh  green  meadows,  instead  of  being  allowed  to 
become  wildernesses  of  weeds :  slopes  disfigured  with  stumpage 
may  be  reforested.  It  should  be  the  privilege  of  the  natural- 
ist to  enlist  public  spirited  folk  in  the  promotion  of  such  bet- 
terments.   It  will  help  the  good  name  of  his  community. 

The  greater  the  number  of  people  who  can  be  got  to 
participate  in  this  work,  the  better  it  will  be  established  in 
pubHc  opinion:  the  more  children  helping,  the  better  its 
results  will  be  insured  against  future  vandalism.  About 
schools  and  colleges,  things  should  be  planted,  not  soldy 


sae 


NATURAL  mS'IORV  OF  'JI1J-:  I'ARM 


for  oniamcnl,  as  at  present,  but  for  their  educational  use- 
fulness as  well. 

Making  natural  reserves  servicable.  Education  began 
in  "fresh  air  schools".  Country  folk  ha\e  always  been  wont 
to  meet  in  groves  for  pul)lic  exercises.  The  fresh  air  and  the 
open  sky,  the  majesty  of  the  trees,  and  the  freshness  of  the 
unspoiled  verdure  have  irresistibly  drawn  them  out  of  doors. 
With  the  revival  of  interest  in  field  work,  we  are  going  out 
doors  in  companies  again  and  taking  some  of  our  work  with 
us. 

It  is  not  so  easy  now,  as  once  it  was,  to  find  a  spot  prepared 
by  nature  for  a  gathering  place.  The  requisite  conditions  are 
that  all  who  come  together  shall  be  able  to  see  and  to  hear 
and  to  sit  comfortably  while  listening  or  working.  i\  grassy 
bank  under  a  tree,  when  dry  enough,  may  meet  these  con- 
ditions. For  many  years  a  few  great  trunks  of  fallen  trees 
in  the  Renwick  woods  at  Ithaca  served  as  meeting  places 
for  classes  in  biological  field  work.  But  places  better  suited 
to  the  needs  of  classes  may  easily  be  arranged  in  the  woods. 

For  more  continuous  use  as  an  outdoor  class  room,  "The 
Covert,"  at  Ithaca  was  made.  A  natural  hollow  in  the  woods, 
over-arched  and  shaded  by  trees,  was  fitted  with  seats  of 
fiat  field-stones,  arranged  in  semi-circles.  Aisles  were  left 
for  passing  and  paths  were  made  for  entrance  and  exit.  At 
the  center  a  massive  table,  with  a  vslate  slab  for  a  top,  was 
built  of  hollow  tile  and  plastered.  A  door  was  set  in  the  back 
of  its  hohow  base,  and  its  interior  is  used  for  the  storage  of 
grass  mats,  i)etween  sessions.  These  mats  are  handed  out 
for  use  by  classes  when  the  stones  are  damp  and  c<jld. 
**  The  Covert  "  is  an  excellent  type  of  educational  equip- 
ment that  can  be  made  in  any  woods.  It  is  very  suljstantial 
and  permanent.  It  does  not  disfigure  the  woods  (being  hardly 
discernible  from  a  distance  of  a  few  rods  in  any  direction) 
and  it  is  growing  in  beauty  every  year  as  its  trees  grow  older, 


OUTDOOR  EQUIPMENT 


331 


its  paths  become  better  turfed,  and  its  surrounding  plant- 
ings develop.  It  was  made  by  a  few  weeks  of  labor  on  the  part 
of  two  students,  and  it  cost  less  than  ten  dollars  for  materials. 
Gathering  places  for  larger  numbers  may  be  made  on  the 
same  general  plan.  The  author  once  took  a  class  in  natural 
history  out  to  a  small  grove,  and  set  the  members  studying 
the  trees  and  the  slopes  with  a  view  to  locating  and  arranging 
therein,  with  the  least  possible  distiurbance  to  the  wild  wood, 
an  outdoor  auditorium  for  public  addresses,  concerts  and 
sylvan  plays.  The  result  is  the  simply  arranged  natural 
amphitheater  shown  in  fig.  140:     ^  is  the  floor  plan;    B  is 


/////7M/, 


Fig.  140.     Diagram  of  an  outdoor  auditorium. 


332  NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 

a  verlicd  scjtion,  show-in^'  a  properties-room,  P  beneath 
the  stage,  and  a  vestibule,  V,  for  entrance  from  the  rear; 
and  C  is  the  end  of  a  row  of  seats.  In  the  floor  plan  7,  7,  T, 
etc.,  indicate  the  trunks  of  high-crowned  trees,  left  standing 
to  furnish  shade.  The  artificialities  of  the  plan  are  such  only 
as  are  necessary:  comfortable  seats,  conveniently  arranged, 
and  a  good  stage.  These  are  made  of  cement  on  ribbed  metal 
lath,  plastered  on  both  sides  and  colored  green  or  gray  or 
brown.  The  sylvan  picture  round  about  is  carefully  pre- 
ser\^ed.  The  aisles  are  grass  paths.  Under  the  seats  are  beds 
of  violets.  Greensward  masks  the  stage  and  low  evergreens 
define  front  and  rear  stage  entrances.  A  bank  of  tall  ever- 
greens furnishes  a  background  at  the  rear  of  the  stage.  All 
around  are  trees  for  shade.  A  rising  turf  covered  bank  at 
the  rear  of  the  seats  provides  for  overflow  on  great  occasions, 
the  limit  of  capacity  being  set  by  a  bank  of  evergreens  fronted 
with  thorny  barberry.  Vines  added  for  grace,  and  flowering 
trees  and  shrubs  for  color  are  used  to  fill  surrounding  niches. 
Thick  walls  of  verdure  round  about  exclude  outside  distrac- 
tions. Grass  paths  of  ample  width,  well  defined  by  border 
plantings,  give  easy  access,  and  invite  pedestrians  to  keep 
off  the  other  vegetation. 

No  community  will  long  gather  in  such  places  without 
coming  to  feel  an  interest  in  the  wild  things.  By  the  posses- 
sion and  use  of  such  outdoor  places,  the  public  may  be 
educated  in  the  appreciation  of  nature. 


Library 
C.  State  College 


INDEX 


Page 

Abundance    i6 

Abutilon i59.  259 

Acquaintance 11 

Acorns 29,30 

Acorus 36,61 

Acroneuria    42 

Acronycta 269 

Adder's- tongue  .206,  208,  210,  234 

Adirondacks 84 

Adjustment 235,  293 

Advertise 265 

Aerial  roots 13 

Agassiz,  Louis 14 

Age  of  Chivalr}^ 108 

Agricultural  conditions 98 

Agriculture 9.  104,  327 

Ailanthus    224 

Alders    292 

Alexander,  C.  P 63 

Alfalfa 240 

Algae 35,36,192,307 

Alcohol    13 

Alum  root 92 

Amphicarpaea 62 

Amphiagrion 42 

Anax  Junius 42 

Ancestors    72 

Anemonella 210 

Anemones 208 

Animals 36,  39,  no,  258 

Animals,  farm 69,  274 

Animal  fibers 160 

Animal  husbandry 196 

Anise 247 

Annual  plants 235 

Anopheles 275 

Aphids 268,270,271,304 

Apios 60,  285,286,289 

Apocynum  (dogbane) 159 

Appetite  for  blood 275 

Apples 16,  17,  19  73  246 

Apple  blossoms 214 

Apple-curculio    304 

Apple  leaf  miner 304 


Pack 

Apple-maggot 305 

Apple  tree 153,  302 

April    208 

Aquatic  insects ,     39 

Aquatic  plants 308 

Arboretum    45 

Arborvitae 91 

Arctium  (burdock) 1 59 

Aroids 61,63 

Aromatic  cedar 91 

Aromatic  herbs 243 

Aromatic  oils 249 

Arrow  arum 61 

Arrowhead    62 

Arrow-woods    143,  I97 

Arsenate  of  lead 269 

Artichoke    60 

Artistic  standards 128 

Asclepias  (milkweed) 159 

Asellus 38,  192 

Ash 74,  129,  170 

Asparagus 244 

Asphalt  pavement 33 

Ass 109,  no 

Association 291 ,  293 

Asters 292,311,317 

As  You  Like  It 252 

Attachment  discs 287 

Audubon  societies 328 

Augochlora 214 

Auld  Lang  Syne 312 

Autumn 66,  132 

Autumn's  Mirth 66 

Autumnal  Coloration,  132, 137,201 

Avens 294 

Azaleas    I44 

Back  swimmer 39 

Back  to  nature 1 1 

Bacon    24 

Bacteria,  nitrogen  gathering  .  237 

Badger 97 

Bad  taste 123 

Bag    14 


333 


334 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Page 

Balance 206 

Balance  of  nature 198 

Balaninus  (acorn  weevil) ....      27 

Balm   247 

Balsams 54.  9 » 

Balsam-api)le 288 

Barbi(lj,'e 247 

Barberry 20,  167 

Bark  beetles 30 

Bark-strings 155 

Barnyard 117 

Basil 247 

Basket 14 

Basket  industry 143 

Basses   47 

Basswood 74,  129,  155,  253 

Bathing  places 313 

Bats 99,  102 

Beard,  Dan 84 

Beard-tongue 266 

Bears 9,98,  182 

Beasts  of  prey 97 

Beauties  of  nature 32 

Beaver 9,  96,  97,  150 

Beech 72,  74.  129,  170,224 

Beechnut 28 

Beech  nuts 25 

Beech  woods 129 

Bee-fly 215 

Beetle 2j,  181,  216,  305 

Beetle  lar\^aj 182 

Beets   60 

Bedstraws 293 

Benacus 39 

Bennett,  William  C 307 

Bergamot    247 

Berries 296 

Berrj'-bearing  shrubs  .  17,  189,  201 

Beverage 18 

Binding-twine 156 

Bindweeds 288 

Bison 97,  98,  274,  312 

Birch.  .72,  77,,  74,  83,  129,  165,  317 

Birch  bark 178 

Birch  curl 83 

Birds 19,22,24, 

67.  157.  188,  197,  201,  220,  296 

Bird's  bath 313 

Bird  migration 67 

Biting  insects 269 


Pagb 

Bittersweet 71,  2M7,  288,  289 

Black  bass 46 

Blacklicrried  older 18,  I46 

Blackberry 18,  244,  297,  298 

Black-flies 

36,  37,  39.  4<^  274,  275,  276 

Black  Maple 170 

Black  walnut 187 

Blanket  algie 36 

Blanks  f <  )r  record 13 

Blcpharoccra    38 

Blepharoccri<kc    40 

Bloodroots   .  .  .  .206,  208,  209,  210 

Bloodsucking  flies 279 

Blueberries 17,  18,  144 

Bluebird    220 

Blue  flag  (iris) 293 

Blue  grass 55,258 

Blue-green  alga- 35 

Blue  myrtle 92 

Bob-white 116,  117 

Bone  awl 157 

Boneset 293,310 

Borders 144 

Borers 182,303 

Bot-flies 275,  277,  278  279 

Bounty  of  nature 10,  16 

Box-elders 1 70 

Bracken  fern 163  292  299 

Braiding    1 56 

Brambles 145  186,  189,  296 

Brasenia 35 

Brer  Rabbit 299 

Bridge 318,329 

Briers 188 

Brier  patch 299 

Broad-leaved  evergreens  ....     92 

Brook 307,310 

Brook  trout 192 

Browsing 53,  54 

Brown-tail  moth 271 

Brush 124,  143,  146 

Brush  fence 186 

Brushwood 77 

Br>'ant 143,  180,  193,  274 

Brvozoans 3^ 

Buckeye    26,  28 

Buckthorn 145 

Buckwheat 68,  259,261 

Buckwheat,  climbing 289 


INDEX 


335 


Page 

Bud-moth  caterpillars 304 

Buffalo 9.  96 

Buffalo-berries 16,  19,  144 

Buffalo  gnat 37,  276 

Bugle-weed 309 

Building- sites 191 

Bull  dogs Ill 

Bullheads 47 

Bulrushes   292,  293 

Buprestidae 182 

Burdock 159,  257,  262 

Bums,  Robert 24,  96,  312 

Bur-weed 36 

Burrow   150,  176 

Burrowers 58 

Burrowing  bee 214 

Burs 12 

Bushes 197 

Bush  fruits 17,  22 

Butter 24 

Butter-and-eggs 266 

Buttercup 55,  294 

Butterflies 215 

Butternut 25,  28,  74,  129,  170 

Buttonbush 144,  269 

Cabbages 54,  246 

Cabbage-lice 270 

Cabbage- worms 270 

Caddis  worms 37.  40»  I93 

Calamus  root  (sweet  flag)  ...     62 

CalHbaetis   42 

Calyx 19 

Camomile 260 

Campfire 83,  84 

Campions 245,  264 

Camp  sites 83 

Canada  168 

Canoe    155 

Can-opener 10 

Caraway 247 

Cardinal  flowers 211,  294 

Carnivores 39,  178,  181,  271 

Carnivorous 41.  4^ 

Carpels 19 

Carpenter  worms 181 

Carrots 59,  6o>  260,  266 

Cascadilla 45 

Castaillia 35 

Cat 109, 153 


Pagb 

Catbird 3  )2 

Catnip 246 

Caterpillars 182.  304 

Cat  fishes 47, 48 

Catnip 246.  247 

Cattail 36,  62,292,293,  310 

Cattle    

32,47.  52,  55.  56,  109,  111,277 

Cauliflower 246 

Cavalier 108 

Cayuga   113 

Ceanothus 270 

Cedar 91, 129 

Cedar  berries 22 

Celastrus 288 

Centaur 107 

Centipedes 178,  181 

Cereals 10,  32,  68,  127 

Cerambycidae 182 

Ceremonials   246 

Ceratophyllum 35 

Ceratopogon .     43 

Cherries 16,  22,  187 

Chestnut 

24,  28,  30,  'J2i.  74,  129,  184 

Chestnut  Oak 28 

Chestnut  Wee\dl 27 

Chickadees 153 

Chickens 117,  118 

Chicks 118 

Chickweeds 55 

Chicory 60 

Chipmunk 100,  102 

Chironomidae    40 

Chironomus    43 

Chipping  sparrow 143 

Chokecherries 20,  189,  317 

Cinquefoil 317 

Civilization  .  .  .9,  10,  105,  186,  296 

Cladophora 34 

Clearing n,  18,  143 

Clematis  (virgin's  bower) ....   288 

Climate 9 

Chmbers 30 

Climbing  apparatus 286 

Climbing  hemp 286 

Cloth 157,  159 

Clothes    10 

Clothing    13 

Cloven  hoofs 53.  loS 


336 


N^VrURAL  HISTORY  oF  THE   FARM 


Pace 

Clovers 56,  235,  237,  238.  239 

Clover,  white 238,  253 

Clover,  hop 240 

Cock    118 

Cocklebur 257,  258 

Cockle  mint 198,  199.  294 

Cockroaches 181 

Codling  moth 17,22,304 

Coleoptera    40,  1^2 

Columbine    209 

Columbus 244 

Combustion    83 

Community    122 

Competition 25,  150,  265 

Competitors 1 97,  233 

Composites 3^0 

Compost 175 

Comstock,  Mrs.  J.  H 172,  277 

Confections 172 

Coniferous 90 

Conifers 86,91.  164 

Conser\'ation  soil  ...  .25,  175,  285 

Consumers    39 

Containers    13 

Continuous  occupancy 199 

Control  of  animals 47 »  186 

Cooking 81 

Coolers    191 

Copper 10 

Coptotomus   39 

Cordage 92,  156,  158,  161,  162 

Core  fruits 19 

Corethra 43 

Coriander   247 

Corixa 39 

Com 9.  186,234 

Com  weather 234 

Comer  grocery 265 

Cor>-dalis  comuta 39 

Cor>-lus  amcricanus 26 

Cotton 159.  160 

CottonwrK)d 160,  177 

Country  Pathway,  A 296 

Course  in  sprouts 1 44 

Covert 330 

Cow 53 

CowsHps   292 

Crab  apple 20 

Crab-grass 259 

Cranberries 16,  17,  286 


Page 

Craneflies 40,  1 83 

Crawfish 38,46,48,292,310 

Creek 33 

Creepers    35 

Cresses 246,  292,  294 

Crop  plants 268 

Crops 15,25,  121 

Crop  production  .  .  233 

Crossl)ills 67 

Crows 18,22,  151,  303,  317 

Crucifers 246 

Cmstaceans    38 

Cuckoos 303 

Cucurbits    286 

Cudweed  (everlasting) 299 

Culicidic 40,  275 

Cultivated  fruits    18 

Cultural  varieties 47 

Culture   25 

Cup  of  hazel  tea I44 

Currants 16,  144 

Curtis,  Dorothy 46 

Cut-grass 309 

Cyanide  bottle 217 

Cyclopedias   of   Horticulture 

and  of  Agriculture 14 

Cyperaceae    68 

Cypress 184 

Daemon  of  the  World 113 

Daisy 55,259,264 

Damsel-fly 40.  42 

Dandelions 55,  257,  258,  259 

David    52 

Day  in  June,  A   233 

Deciduous  shrubs 143 

Deciduous  trees 71 

Decorative  plantings 123 

Deer 9,98,246,274 

Deerflics    274 

Deer  mice 102,  152,  162 

Delicacies   16 

Dewberry    298 

Diatoms 34.  36,  41 

I    Dill 247 

I    Diptcra 40.  43.  183,275 

I    Disciplinarians 143 

I    Dispersal 55.  66,  68,  133 

j    Diuretic 244 


INDEX 


3.^7 


Page 

Diving  beetle 39 

Division  of  labor 10 

Dobson  larva 39 

Dobsons    40 

Docks    59.  259 

Dog   104, 105,  III 

Dogbane 1 59 

Dogwood  .  .  144,  146,  167,  205,  292 
Domesticated  animals  .  .  .104,  105 

Domesticated  fowls 118 

Domesticated  mammals .  .  104,  in 

Domestication 106,  1 10 

Dominant  forms 294 

Doorweed  (goosegrass)  .  .259,  261 

Dove  302 

Dragon-fly    40,  42 

Dried  berries 18 

Drouth    310 

Drupes 19 

Ducks 113,  117 

Dumping  places 32 

Dutchman's  breeches 210 

Dytiscus   39 

Earthworms.  ...  176,  178,  282,  309 

Echinocystis 288 

Eden    121,  22^'] 

Edible   59 

Edible  berries 144 

Edible  nuts 26 

Education 12,  314,  326,  330 

Eggs 118 

Elateridae    182 

Elder, 

143,  144,  165,  205, 292, 299, 318 

Elderberry 18,  20,  144 

Elk 98 

Elm, 
73,  74,  129,  155,  170,  177,  205,  329 

Elm  bark 246 

Elodea  (Anacharis) 35 

Engraver  beetles 181,  1 82 

Envelopes 14 

Ephemerida    40 

Epidermis 269 

Esthetic  values  .  100,  195,  210,  219 

Evergreens 90,  92 

Evolution 99,  220,  265 

Experience    11 


Page 

Faery  Queen   77 

Fagots •''^3,85 

Fairyland 165,  167 

Fairy  tree 223 

Fall  planting 196 

False  wSolomon's  seal 62 

Famine   105 

Farm 81,  104 

Farm  crops 233,  268,  324 

Farmer    121,  126 

Farm  landscapes .  .  .  .  121,  223,  316 

Farm  operations 126 

Farm  stream 32 

Farm  woodlot 77 

Father  Raffcix 113 

Fathers  of  Old,  Our 243 

Fats 24 

Fauna   47 

Feeding  shelf 1 53 

Feet 52 

Fences 33, 127,  186 

Fencerowi7,25,  146,  186,189,292 

Ferns 92,206 

Fertilization 213 

Fertilizers 237 

Fiber  products.  .155,  158,  159,  160 


Fields 


33 


Fightmg 42,47  59 

Filberts 25   144 

Fillers    292,298 

Filtration  plant 191 

Finch 67 

Fire 81,  82,  196,  212 

Fire  by  friction ^^ 

Fireflies 181 

Fire-making 83 

First  Spring  Dav,  the 168 

Fishes 9,  32,  37,  38,  46,  47,  48 

Fish  culture 47 

Fish  food 2)1 

Fishing 32 ,  46 

Fishing  lines 161 

Flavor 16,  26,  68,  116 

Flavoring  of  foods 247 

Flax 1 59 

Fleabane 294 

Flesh    42 

Flint TO 

Floating  liver\vort 36 

Floating  riverweed 35 


33« 


NATURAL   HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Pace 

Flocks 96 

Flood 34.35 

Flood  plain 310 

Flowering  dogwood .  .  129,  196,225 

Flowers _ 264 

Flower  visiting  insects 214 

Fly-brushes 278 

Flylarvx 183 

Flv  repellants 274 

Fly  time 274,278 

Fo'liage 210 

Food 32,  46 

Food  habits 41 

Food  rescn-e 170,  233 

Food  stick 153 

Footprints 150 

Forage 47.  i^9 

Forage  crops 127 

Foragers    67 

Forefathers 168 

Forest   77,  180,  193 

Forest  cover.  ...  17,  24.  32,  77,205 

Fountains,  the 143 

Fowl  meadow-grass 309,310 

Fowls 106,  113 

Foxes 98.99 

Fragrance 16,  144,  201 

Freezing    34 

Fresh  air  schools 330 

Frogs 38 

Frontal  sinus 277 

Frosts 17,  24,  30 

Fruit 9,  16,  17,  127 

Fruit,  poisonous 243 

Fruit  fly 17 

Fmit  trees 17.  123 

Fuel  values 84 

Fuel  woods.. 81,  86 

Fungus  gnats 181,  183 

Fur  bearers .  .     97 

Furs 96,  97 

Fur  trade 9^^ 

Galls    304 

(iame 9,  46,  48,  96,  1 13 

Oammarus    38 

Garden    9 

Gaiden  of  scented  herbs 249 

Gardener 289 

Garter  snake 316 


Page 

Geese 1 13,  115,  117 

General  Biology 271 

Gentians 292,  294 

Gerard 245,  248 

Gerardias    264 

Giant  water-bug 39 

Gills 40,41 

Ginger 247 

Glow-wo<rms 1 83 

Goat 52,  109 

Goldenrod, 

206,  262.  292,  294,  299.  310,  318 

Good  farming   121 

Gooscberrv i^,  144.  298 

Gophers 98,  99.  3^6 

Goths 42 

Gourds 285 

Graces  of  form  and  color.  ...    121 

Grains 68 

Grallatoriall)irds 117 

Grandmothers    247 

Gramineae    68 

Grass 42,  52, 

54,  68,  92,  246,  292,  302, 309 

Grapes 16,  285,  287 

Grape  vines 170,  285 

Gravelly  beds 41 

Gravity 33,  137,  178 

Grazing 18,196,212 

Grazing  animals 52 

Great  ])ullrush 36 

Great  Spirit 9»  1 72 

Greeks 108 

Green,  Darius 219 

Green  alga> 34 

Greenbrier 298 

Green  things  gro^^'ing.  .  .  .  195,  327 

Ground  beetles 178,  181 

Ground  cherries 17 

Ground  cover 92, 176 

Groundfloor    257 

Ground  nut 60 

Groundwater 191 

Grouse 113,  116,  151,316 

Grove 327 

Guinea  fowl 117 

GuUies 33 

Habitat  4' 

Hackbern' 20 


INDEX 


339 


Page 

Halictus 215 

Hallowe'en   24 

Hammock  nest 158 

Handbookof  Nature-Study  14,  172 
Handbook  of  North  American 

Indians    163 

Hard  woods 82 

Harris,  Joel  Chandler 299 

Hawk 118 

Hawkweed    257 

Hawthorn.  .  .20,  56,  225,  246,  317 

Hay-rope I55 

Hazel 25,  144,  292 

Hazelnut 26,  28 

Headlands 32 

Helianthus (sunflower) ...  .60,  159 

HeUgrammite 39 

Hemiptera 40 

Hemlock,  .  83,86,91,  129, 167,234 

Hemp 159 

Hen 116,  118 

Hepatica 208  209,  210 

Herbage 52, 70, 225 

Herbage  scents 247 

Herbals 244,  245 

Herbivores 39,41,42,  181 

Herds 96, 121 

Hiawatha's  Childliood 150 

Hiawatha's  Sailing 155 

Hibernation 66,  150 

Hibiscus I55»  I59>  211 

Hickory 24,  25, 

26,  73,  74,  76,  84,  85,  129,  224 

Highway 32 

Hobble-bush I45 

Hodge,  F.  W 163 

Hog-peanut 62 

Hogs 24,  47,  109,  274,  312 

Holdfasts 287 

Holland,!.  G 71 

Homes 10 

Home  sites 191,  302 

Homesteads   123,  124 

Honey 238,253 

Honey-bee 213,  215 

Honeysuckles  .  .  145,  158,  286,  289 

Hoofed  mammals 97^^77 

Hoofs 53,54 

Hooks    30 

Hop  clovers 240 


Pack 

Hops 285    288 

Horehound.  ...  ...   247 

Hornbeam 2,-,  129 

Horse  .  106,  107,  108,  1 10,  1 1 1,  277 

Horse  chestnut 26 

Horse  flies, 

39,40,275,  276,  277,278 

Horsefly  larva? 193 

Horsehairs 156 

Horse  power 108 

Horse  radish 246 

House-flics 216.  278 

Householder 195 

Howard,  Ethel  Barstow 223 

Human  industr}' 121 

Humus 177,  178 

Hunt,  Leigh 191 

Hunter 59.  97.  105 

Himting dogs in 

Huntsmen 113 

Husbandman    105 

Husbandry 10 

Hybrid no 

Ice-coat 164 

Improvements    123,  326 

Improved  varieties 25 

Indians, 
9,  10,  18,  24,  96,  97,  156,  168,  172 

Indian  cucumber- root 61 

Indian  hemp 159 

Injurious  insects 303 

Insecticide 270 

Insect  larv^ae 38 

Insects 38.303 

Instincts 279 

Invention  of  spinning 1 56 

Invocation  to  rain 307 

Iris 2^},,  329 

Iroquois 16 

Jack-in-thc-pulpit 61,  209 

Jam 18 

Javs 303 

Jellies 18 

Jewel-weed 69,  293 

Jimson-weed 259 

Job 205 

Joel    ....   268 

Joe-pye-weed .  293,  310 


34C 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THE  F.VRM 


Page 

fudas  tree 22  >, 

fuice    i^ 

[uncus 54.-9- 

[unebcrn- i^,  197 

[unipers 91 

fute 159 

Kale 246 

Kerosene  emulsion 270 

Kerrias 144 

Kindling  material 83 

Kipling    243 

Knife 13 

Knots 85 

Labels    14 

Lace  wing  fly 270,  271 

Lace  workers 289 

Ladybird 271 

Lady  bird  beetle  larva 270 

Lady's  slippers 2 1 1 

Lamb's  quarters 259 

Lampvridc-e 183 

Land  fowl 113 

Landscape 12,  122,  124 

Lanier,  Sidney 186,  237 

Larch  roots 155 

Larcom,  Lucy I21 

Lar\'ae    30 

Lavender 247,  249 

Lawn 146 

Lead  acetate 13 

Leaf  fall I34 

Leaf  hoppers 305 

Leaf  miners 268 

Leaf  mold 177 

Leaf  mosaics 287 

Leaf  skeletonizcrs 269 

Leatherwood 155 

Leeches 38 

Leersia  (cut  grass) 309 

Legumes 63 

Leguminosai 68 

Lemon  verbena 247 

Lens 13 

Lentils 68 

Leptidne 40, 183 

Lepidoptcra    40,  182 

Lettuce    244 

Life  of  Inland  Waters 14 


Pack 

Lightning    81 

LilifS    211 

Limnca    38 

Lincoln,  Abraham 187 

Linen 1 60 

Linden 26,  2H,  73, 76,  162,  253 

Linden  buds 246 

Literature 107 

Livestock 37,  110,  127 

Lloyd,  J.  T 14 

Lobelia 200,  292,  294,  309 

Logs 32,  180 

Lombardv  ix)plar 73 

Longfellow 150,  155 

Loniccra    145 

Loom 157 

Loosestrife    294 

Loss  of  blood 279 

Lotus 26 

Lowell 158 

Lynxes 98 

Maize 10 

Magnolias 253 

Mallow 259 

Mallow  cheeses 246 

Mallow,  round  leaved 245 

Mammals 58,  no,  303 

Mandrakes 16.  209 

Manna  grass 293 

Manual  of  Botany,  Gray's.  .  .      14 
Manual  for  the  wStudy  of  In- 
sects, Comstock's 14.277 

Manual  of  the  Vertebrates, 

Jordan's 14 

Maple 74,  129.  168,253,317 

Maples,  soft    253 

Maple  sap 168 

Maple  sugar 168 

Maple  wax 17  ^ 

Marlatt,  C.  L 270 

Marmion 9^ 

Marshes 98 

Marsh  ferns 292,  310 

Marshmallows 159.  294 

xMarsh  marigolds 208,  21 1 

Marsupi-d   99 

Mas(m,  OtisT 156 

Mav  apples 244 

Mayflies 40.  42,  48 


INDEX 


341 


Page 

Ma^^fly  nymphs 42,  193 

Meadow 32,  98,  188,  329 

Meadowmice 102,  292,  311 

Meadow  rue 209,  294 

Meadowsweet 266,  292 

Meat  supply 109 

Medeola    61 

Medicago    239 

Medicines 244 

Medicinal  properties 68 

Medics 240 

Melilotus 239 

Menispermum    288 

Mental  characteristics no 

Micah   285 

Mice 153,  187 

Midge  lar\^as 193 

Midges 40, 42,  43,  48 

Midges,  net  veined 38,  40 

Mikania 286 

Milk no 

Milkweed 160,  161 

Millepedes 181, 282 

Mine  Host 302 

Mink 97, 102,312 

Minnows 48 

Mint    247,248 

Mississippi  Valley. 71 

Mixed  crops 175 

Modem  learning 100 

Moisture  loving 282 

Molds    178 

Mole    99. 102 

Molluscs   38, 192 

Monkey  flowers 294 

Moonseed 288 

Moore,  Emmeline 34 

Moose   98 

Moosewood 144 

Morning  Glory  .258,  259,  286,  318 

Mosquito 39, 40, 193,  274,  275 

Mosquito,  To  a 275 

Mosses 35.92 

Mosspink 92,209,210 

Mother  earth 9,  10 

Mountain  ash 19,  20, 167 

Mountain  laurel 92 

Mountain  sheep 98 

Mouse,  To  a 96 


Pace 

Mouse-ear 317 

Moving  water    33,  137,  282 

Alowing 18,  196 

IVIud 33 

Mulberries    16 

Mule    no 

Mullein 55,  259,  262 

Muloch,  Dinah  M 195 

Muscid  flies 40 

Muscoidea 40 

Mushrooms 282 

Musk-mallow 247 

Aluskrat 97,  152 

Mussel 38 

Mustard 246,  259 

Mutual  benefit 278 

Mutual  helpfulness 299 

Mutual  pleasure 107 

Muzzles 53 

MycetophiUdae 183 

Myriophyllum   35 

Nannyberry   19,  20,  144 

Narcissus 234 

Narcotic    26 

Natural  balance 308 

Natural  pruning 166 

Natural  selection 54 

Natural  social  functions 39 

Native  crops 9 

Native  mammals 97 

Nature 1 1 

Nature's"  method 176,  198 

Nature's  nursery 198 

Nature  worship 172 

Nectar 214,238 

Nesbit,  Wilbur  D 316 

Nesting  boxes 221 

Nesting  sites 22 

Nets 217 

Nettle 159.  246 

Net  veined  midges 38,  4^ 

Neuroptera 40 

New  England 187 

New  Jersey 145 

New  York' 187 

Ninebark  .  .  144,  146,  167, 196,  198 

North  woods 274 

Notebook    13 

Noteworthy  trees 128 


342 


NATUR.\L  IIISTURV  OF  THE   FARM 


Page 

Notonecta 39 

Xovelties 123 

November 66 

Xoyes,  Alice  A 37 

Nursery 195,  1 98 

Nursery  row 197 

Nuts '4.  30 

Nut  bearing  trees 25 

Nut  hatches 153 

Nut  wee\nls 26 

Nymphrca 35 

Nymphs    40 


Oak, 

72,129,167,  177,  184,205, 

"   black    

"   family 

"   red 28,  74, 

"   white 

"   woods 

Oats 

Odonata    

CEstridx 

<  )ffsets 199, 

(^ils 68, 

Oncopeltus   

Onion 59,  234, 

Opossum 

Orchard 121, 

Orioles 19,  158, 

Oriole's  nest 

Orl  flies 

Orl-fly  larva 

Orris-root    

Osier  dogwoods 144, 

Otters    

Outdoor  auditorium 

Out-of-doors 

Outlook 9, 

Ox    

Ox  warbles 

Ox  yoke 

Oxybaphus 

Oxygen    

Oyster  shell  scales 


318 
253 

25 
253 

74 
129 

234 
40 

277 
234 
249 
269 

244 

97 

213 

161 

157 
40 

39 
247 
167 
312 

331 
90 
124 
106 

277 
106 

258 

36 

304 


Packages 24 

Panicled  dog^vood 144 

Panicled  white  aster 200 

Panicularia 293,  309 


Pack 

Parasites 39,  181,  271 

Parasitic  plants 39 

Paris  green 269 

Park 2>2j 

Parsley    248 

Parsnips    59»  60 

Partridge  berry 92 

Pastures 9,  52,  90 

Pasture  plants 52,  53,  .260 

Patrimony 67 

Pawpaw 155 

Pea-fowl    117 

Pearl  acliille 200 

Peas 195 

Pecan 25,  26 

Peck,  Samuel  M 66 

Peltries    96 

Pennyroyal 247,  248 

Pentstemon 266 

Peony    33 

Peppergrass    246 

Peppermint 247  309 

Peppers 246 

Perches   48 

Perennials 53,  234,  293 

Permanent  crops 262 

Persimmons 16,  17 

Personal  initiative 126 

Pests   37 

Pets 105 

Phantom  midge  larv^a 43 

Philotria  (Elodea) 35 

Physostegia 199 

Pickerel 48 

Pigeons 113,  114,  117 

Pigs 58,  io8,|iii 

Pig-nut  hickor>' 25,  28 

Pig-weed  259 

Pikes   48 

Pillbugs 282 

Pines 78,  90,  1 84,  205 

Pine  knots 83,86 

Pine  stumps 90 

Pine  woods 129 

Pioneers  .9,  10,  11,66,71,  186,  192 

Pistil  case  bearer 304 

Pitchforks 257,  308 

Pitch  pine 90 

Planarians 193 

Planorbis 38 


INDEX 


343 


Page 

Plantains 55,  259 

Plant  bugs 305 

Plant  fibers i6o 

Planting  time 195,  260 

Plants 52 

Plastering  fibers       161 

Playful  capers no 

Pleasures  of  the  palate 245 

Plecoptera 40 

Pliny   248 

Plow 32,106 

Plum 16,  19 

Plum  curculio 17,  22 

Pockets 13 

Poets 72 

Poison 217,269 

Poison  ivy  , 

13,  22,  152,  189,  246,  287 

Pole  beans 285 

Pollen    213,294 

Pollen  distribution 253 

Pollen  distributors 216 

Polygonaceas 68 

Pomes 19 

Pomology  19 

Pools  41 

Poplar 184 

Population 67,  182,  192 

Porcupines 67,  154,  169 

Pork 109 

Porzana 1 1 7 

Potamogeton    34,  35 

Potato  ...  10,  59,  60, 235, 261 ,  270 

Potato  beetles 268 

Pot  hunter 1 1 5 

Poultry 127 

Poultry  husbandry 118 

Power  of  flight 220 

Powers,  Horatio  H 213 

Prairie  hen 116 

Prairies 71,  114,327 

Prepared  bird  skins 221 

Prickly  ash 144,  145 

Primitive  folk 244 

Primitive  language no 

Products 10,  II 

Prong  horn 98 

Propagating   18 

Propagation   200 

Proteins 24 


Page 

Provisions 58 

Prunes 244 

Pruning 167 

Psalm 52 

Psephenus 3^ 

Pulp 19 

Pulse  family 68 

Pumas 9^ 

Puncturing 269 

Punkies  43,  274,  278 

Pure  cultures 47 

Puritan    66 

Purselane    259 

Pyrochroidae 183 

Quadrupeds 68,  97 

Quail   113 

Quick  growing  crops 24 

Rabbits 98.  150, 

153,  1&7,  188,292,299,316 

Rabbit's  foot  clover 240 

Raccoon 97,  98,  100,  102,  182 

Radishes 60, 195,  246 

Ragweeds 262 

Rail  fence 188 

Rails    113 

Rail  splitter 187, 188 

Railroads 32 

Rain 33,  281 

Rainv  season 276 

Rapids 33, 34,  35.  36,  41 

Raspberry.  .  16,  184,  297,  298,  317 

Rat  hatcheries 328 

Rattans 286 

Recognition  characters .  40, 41 ,  1 83 

Red  cedar 9' 

Red  deer 98 

Redman 10,  11,61,62,96.  143 

Red  milk-weed  bug 269 

Red  Jacket 9 

Red  osier  dogwood 146 

Red  squirrel 102 

Reference  books I4 

Refrigerators    19I 

Reindeer ^  50 

Reservations 97,  212 

Resins 82 

Resources    ^2 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua 124 


344 


NATUR.VL  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Page 

Ricciocarpus 36 

Rich  weed   328 

Riffle-beetle    38 

Riley,  James  Whitcomh.  .  .46,  2t>6 

Rill 3,3,  3^» 

River  weed 34 

Roads    127,  146 

Roads,  The  Winding 316 

Robbing  tlie  woods 211 

RolKTts.G.  D 165 

Robin .  .  19,  162,  16H,  2  19,  302,  309 

Rock  bass 48 

Rodents 24 

Root  crops 63,  127 

Rooters 58 

Roots 34.  59 

Roses 286, 3 1 7 

Roses,  climbing 289 

Rose  geraniums 247 

Rosemar}' 247 

Rossetti.'Christina  C 168 

Rotted  logs 86 

Rubbing  sticks 81,88 

Rubus   296 

Ruffed  grouse 116 

Rule,  metric-English 13 

Rules  for  planting 200 

Running  water 282 

Rye  235 

Sage 247,  248 

Saint  John's  wort 264,  294 

St.  Lawrence 168 

Salamander 38, 178,  181,  192 

Samoa 155 

Sand 33 

Sap  flow 169, 171,  303 

Sap-pits 169,  303 

Sap  spouts 143,  171 

Sapsuckers 86,  169,  303 

Sassafras 76,  85, 186, 189 

Savage 81,83,  i^7 

Savory  herbs 246 

Scale  insects 268,269,304 

Scaraba-idc-e 183 

Scavengers    39 

Scent  bags 249 

Scirpus 36,  293 

Scolytidee    182 


Pack 

Scott,  Walter 90 

''^cuds 38  42,  192 

Seasons 16,  233 

Sedges 68,  206,  292,  30*;.  310 

Seeds 10,  52,  197 

Seed  crop '  .     66 

Seedlings 196 

Seed  ripening 133 

Seine 48 

Selection 16,  25,  47,  54 

Self-fertilizing  flowers 62 

vSelf-inflicted  vandalism 262 

Selkirk,  James  Brown 281 

Semi-aquatics 308 

Seneca "114 

Senses    76 

Sensitive  fern 292 

vSensitive  Plant,  the 164 

Sepedon 43 

vSerial  observations 126 

Seton,  Ernest  Thompson  ....    116 

Se^^^ng  needle 157 

Se^^'ing  threads 1 56 

Sexes  in  domestication 106 

Shadbush    195 

Shakespeare   252 

Shaler 100,  104 

Sheep 52,  108,  III 

Sheep  raising 108 

Sheepshcad 48 

Shelll)ark  hickory 28 

Shelley 113,  164 

Shell  fish 46 

SheUs 26 

Shelter 22,  48 

Shepherd  dogs    in 

SphcTrium 192 

Shoals   41.48 

Shortcomings no 

Shorthorns    47 

Shrews  99,  102,  178,  188,  292,  311 

Shrubs y-j,  143,  204,  225,  262 

Sialis   39 

vSigns   1 50 

Silk 161 

Silver  Show 165 

Simuliidaj 40,  276 

Simulium 276 

Size    18 

Skilful  rider 107 


INDEX 


345 


Page 

Sking  9, 97 

SkuUcap 293,309 

Skunk 97,98,  102,  151 

Skunk  cabbage 61 

Skylines 122 

Slaughter 99 

vSlime-molds    282 

^*^lugs    282 

Small  fruits lo 

vSmith,  Albert  W 58 

Smith,  Miss  Cora  A 275 

vSnails 178 

Snipe 113 

Snipefly 40 

Snipe-fly  larwne 1 83 

Snowberry 144 

Snowbirds 151 

Snow  Bound 81 

Snowdrops    195 

Snow  Coat  of  the  trees 167 

Social  habits 10 

Soft  drink 169 

Soft  maple 73 


Soil 


9,  127 


Soil  conser\'ing 175 

Soil  management 176 

Soil  mixing 175 

Soil  moisture 292 

vSolaniuns 63,  270 

Soldier  fly '.     40 

vSong  birds.  146,  220,  292,  302,  313 

Sora  rail 117 

Sorrels 246 

Sow  bugs 181 

Spanish  moss 161 

Spanish  needles 293,  308 

Spanish  proverb 257 

Sparganium    36 

Sparrows 153,  302 

Spatterdock 35,  62 

Spearmint 247',  309 

Speckled  alder 225 

Speedwells 55 

Spenser   77 

Spice  bush 20,  143,  144 

Spiders 178 

Spindle  and  loom 157 

Spinning 155,  156,  160,  161 

Spiraeas    144 

Splinter 83 


Pacb 

Sponges 38 

Spreading  dogwood 167 

Springs 9,  32,  71.  168,  191 

Spring  brook 191 

Spring  flowers 208,  264 

Spring  house 191 

Spring  pole  and  snare loi 

Spruce 90,  167,  224,  234 

SP^^ge 259 

Squash jq 

Squirrels 24,99,  150,  169,317 

Squirrel  com 206,  209,  234 

Stable-flies    278 

Stagnant 41 

Stamp  weed 159 

Staple  crops 46,  233,  324 

Steel '.  .      10 

Stem  borers 268 

Still  waters 41 

Sting 215 

Stockades 186 

Stock  pens 71,  186,210 

Stone  fence 187 

Stonefly 40. 42 

Stone  fruits 19 

Storehouse    32 

Strainers 37 

Stratification  of  crowns 78 

Stratiomj-iidas 40 

Strawberries 16,  17,  244 

Stream 32, 33,  39,  42,  46 

Stream  map,  a 45 

String 155, 156 

Strip  of  Blue,  a 121 

Struggle  for  existence, 

II.  197.  198,205 

Stuffing  fibers 161 

Stump  fence 187 

Stupidity 262 

Subcutaneous  muscles 278 

Submerged  meadows 33 

Succession  of  bloom 20 1 

Sucker 48, 49 

Sugar  beets 172 

Sugar  bush 171 

Sugar  camp 172 

Sugarcane 172 

Sugarindustry 168 

Sugar  maple 73-  170,  224 

Sugar  of  lead 13 


346 


NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  THK  FARM 


Page 

Sugar  trees I43 

Sumac 18,  143, 

144,  165,  167,  188,224 

Summer  savor\' 247 

Sun  and  shade 17.  200,  206 

Sunfishcs 47 

Sunflowers 60,264 

Swale 116.291.292,310 

Swale  fly 43 

Swamps 98.  327 

Swamp  azalea 1 44 

Swamp  lilies 294 

Swamp  milkweed  ...  I59.  293,  310 

Swans 113.  115 

vSweet  birch 76,  116 

Sweetbrier 247 

Sweet  clovers 240 

Sweet  fern 201 ,  247,  250 

Sweet  flag 61,247,293 

Sweet  majoram 247 

Sweet  pea 286 

Swimming 312 

Swimming  holes 312 

Switches    143 

Sycamore 72,  74.  129,  253»  329 

Svlvan  picture 332 

Sympathy no 

Svrphida? 40 

S'yrphusfly 40,215,270,272 


Tabanidaj    40» 

Tabb, John  B 

Table  fishes 

Tadpoles  38, 

Tamarack I55. 

Tame  animals 

Tannin 

Tapping 

Taro 

Tea 

Teasel 55. 

Telephone 

Tendrils 

Tennyson    

Tent  caterpillar 

Textiles 96 

Textile  art 

Textile  products 

Thanksgiving   

Thickets    


277 
174 

47 
307 
224 
100 
177 
171 

61 
248 

317 

82 
287 
220 

304 
160 

157 

159 

66 

17 


Page 

Thistle     55.  160,  257,  259 

Thompson,  Maurice 291 

Thorns 12 

Thrush 3'^2 

Thvme 247,248 

Tillage 10,32,58,71,139,  175 

Timber    9.32 

Timber  crops 127 

Timothv   55 

Tipulida; 40.  183 

Top  fire 84 

Topography 15. 138 

Tools 9.  13.30,  86 

Touch-me-not 69 

Tow 159.  i^^i 

Tracks 151.309 

Traditions 10,  68,  244 

Tragedy 150 

Trained  horse 107 

Trampling 54,  I97 

Transportation 32,  53,  212 

Trapping 100 

Traps 48 

Treadmill 106 

Tree  forms 72 

Trees 24,52,71,  134.  180,253 

Tree  saps 170 

Tabanidae 40 

Trifolium 240.253 

Trilhum 206, 208, 209 

Trouts 48 

Trumpet  vine 286,287 

Tubers 60 

Tubifex I93 

TuUp  tree 74.  7^,  129.  253 

Turf 53 

Turkey    114.  ii7 

Turkey  gnats 37 

Turnips 60 

Turnspit   106 

Turtle    38 

Turtlehcads 264,  266,  309 

Tussock  sedges 292,  309 

Tuttlc,  OHve  N 238 

Twig  pruners 30 

Twiners 287,288 

Twines 156 

Typha 36 


INDEX 


347 


Page 

Umbelworts    247 

Uncle  Remus 299 

Undergrowth    206 

Upholstering  fibers 161 

Urtica    159 

Useful  birds 19 

Valerian 246 

Vandals 42 

Varieties    18 

Vegetable  flavorings.  .......   246 

Vegetation    38 

Vegetative  offshoots 294 

Vemiin    187 

Vertigo    277 

Virbumum. 19,  143,  144 

Views  of  the  farm 128 

Vigilance 99 

Vines, 
13,  17,  188,  189,  201,  225,  285,  329 

Vineyards 285 

Violet 208,  209,  210,  332 

Virginia  creeper 286,287,317 

Virgin's  bower 286,  318 

Vistas 124 

Voices   no 

Walking-sticks 143 

Walnut 24,  25,  26,  76,  187 

Wanton  slaughter 97 

War 108 

Washington,  George 128 

Washington  Elm 128 

Wasteland 11,  291 

Water  beetles 40 

Water  boatman 39 

Water  bugs 40 

Watercress    192 

Waterfalls 36 

Waterfowl 113,  115,  117 

Water  garden 47 

Water  hemlock 60 

Water  horn  wort 35 

Water  milfoil 35 

Water  mint 249, 309 

Water  moths 40 

Water  shamrock 329 

Water  shield 35 

Water  skaters 307 

Water  world 39i  46 


Page 

Waxwings 19,  22 

Weapon 10,  71 

Weasels 98,  102 

Weather 12,  13 

Weeds 53,  146,  157,  262,296 

Westwood,  Thomas 302 

Whirling  bob 157 

White  birch 72,  223 

White  clover 55,  238 

White  grubs 181,  183 

White  man 9.97 

White  Oak 28,225 

White  pine.  .90,  129,  187,225,318 

White  water  lily 35 

Whitman,  Walt 175 

Whittier,  J.  G 81 

Wild  animals  ...  100,  105,  150,  188 

Wild  apples 17 

Wild  beasts 186 

Wild  boar no 

Wild  carrot 167 

Wild  Cherry 20 

Wild  choke-cherry 19 

Wild  currant  .  .  . '. 1 84 

Wild  ducks 115 

Wild  fishes 47 

Wild  flower  presen-e 327 

Wild  fowls 1 13,  1 15,  1 17 

Wild  fruits 16,  17,  20,  22 

Wild  ginger 209,  210 

Wild  grape 20,  189,  286,  287 

Wild  Hfe 326 

Wild  mammals 96,  100 

Wild  nuts 24,  29 

Wild  perennials 200 

Wild  pigeon 1 13,  1 14 

Wild  rice 6S,  113 

Wild  roots 59 

Wild  rose i44»  299 

Wild  strawberry 92 

Wild  things 11,12,  300,319 

Wild  turkey    115 

Wildwoodio,  16,  122,  195,  201,327 

WilHs,  Nathaniel  Parker 208 

Willow, 

73,  165,  184,  22^,  2^2,  329 

Willow  herb   308 

Willow  rods I43 

Wind *.     24 

Winding  roads 3^6 


348 


NATUR.\L  HISTORY  OF  THE  FARM 


Page 

Window  garden 247 

Wind  sown  seed 1 84 

Wine    285 

Winter 71 

Winter  activities 150 

Winterbcrr>' 144 

Winter  colors 201 

Winter  conditions 132 

Winter  feeding 153 

Wintergreen 92,  247 

Winter  verdure 90 

Wire  rack 87 

Wire  rush 54 

Wire  worms 181,182 

Witch  hazel  .69,  144,  146,  167,  197 

Wolverine 97 

Wolves 98 

Womankind    81 

Wood 52,  144 

Woodbine 13.  189,  286 

Wood  borers 181 

Woodchuck  ....  100,  102,  150,  299 


Pagb 

Woodcock 113 

Woodcraft 9.  151 

Wood  crop 211 

Wood  grasses 206 

Woodlands   121 

Wood  lot 77, |86,  123,211 

Woodpeckers 153,  182,  302 

Woodsmen 71,  84,  151 

Woody  climbers 287 

Wool 108,  160 

Wordsworth,  William ....  123,  264 

Worms 26 

Wormseed 259 

Wrens    302 

Yarrow 55.259 

Yellow  birch 83,  84,  86, 184 

Yew 91 

Yewberry    20 

Yucca    156,157 

Zoological  parks 98 


ijl 


f!!l!!!ii!l|!|!!| 


ii 
i 


iinilililill 

!i  i  ii  I!  |l  ;i  il  t  !i  1 

';pii!  Si!5  i 

!il!!!i!i  hi' 


lilil!!  { 


:iii ! 


1  i 


III 


m 


ijil! 


1 

! 


i'l 

J 
I 


'•W 


iili  I  1; 


'I'i' !';'!'')' 
1;;  !  lii  (  I  lllili 


i! 

p 
p 

iili 


lliiilliiili 

h  Carolina  SUl 

jpjjjl         ^  '.r-'^TORY  OF  THE  FARM  AGUIM  TOTHE  PR 


I  I  II    north  Cro.oa  SUte  University  Ubraries 


liiijjr 
Il  iiiiiii 


S02775236  H 

»"iiiiill!!iili!llil!i!iiiil|iiiiii 


'i 

lillllilli 

■"■j;!ii!j:|i;liili|llil!ll 


lii 


■iii 

!il'l!<i|!'!;!i|!ii!<;i;|i!r'!!;!!l|!|lllliilM^^ 


■lii 


iii 


iiiSliiilliiiiriM 
■MMiliiiiilMtliBiHM 

Vliilliiiilir 


:![!  I  •!?!!';  ill! 


'II  f 


■!!! 


Hip!  nil!  nil 

It 


iili.:  !!■! ill! !! Ill 


iiiiiiiliji 


^iliii 


i;!|i!l|i|>;i|| 
ii  !  !l  !  m 


'  il  ii 


■jjipiii 


ililiiiii 

"""iii 


iiililiil  18 


iiP 


